As It Goes
by MisticLight
Summary: Two friends find another door to Narnia. Unsure of what to do, they team up with the Pevensies and Caspian in order to help save their new world. Co-written with MistroStrings. Caspian/OC and Edmund/OC. Number of Edited Chapters: Twenty-Two.
1. Propriety

**Hello everyone, and welcome to Narnia! This story just so happens to be written by two authors: MistroStrings ( www. fanfiction u/ 1754390/ MistroStrings) (just remove the spaces to see her profile) and MisticLight. This chapter is being written by me, MisticLight. So I hope you enjoy it, and please feel free to write a review!**

**Lets the adventure begin,**

**~MisticLight**

~.~.~.~.

"Just pick out a book, Annette." Margaret cried out with impatience. Her friend, Annette, had already circled around the bookstore _four_ times in search of a book to read on the train ride to school. The thing that troubled Margaret the most was how Annette would reach for the exact same book every time, but pull her hand back at the last second. She just wished her friend had remembered to pack something to read.

Once again, Annette reached for the dark green cover with the red lion on it. "I don't know… does this look good?" The book had no title on it, but something about it was intriguing. It was almost as if the book were calling to her.

Margaret shrugged in response. How could she know?

Annette's green eyes examined the lion for quite some time before heading for the cashier. "Finally." Margaret sighed. "Now we can leave." Although Margaret appeared to be annoyed with the little bookshop, she was actually quite content with it. She loved how the shop looked slightly outdated and had the feel of being in olden times. Honestly, she wouldn't mind spending a few more hours in the tiny store. However, she also wanted to get a good seat on the train.

"Oh, hush up." Annette said to Margaret as she paid for the book. "I want a good seat as much as you do, but I'd rather not die of boredom before even attending a class." Margaret smiled, causing Annette to chuckle. "Now let's get out of here."

The two girls carefully crossed the street, trying their best to avoid the many cars passing by. They weren't about to get hit like the little girl slightly ahead of them almost had.

"It's a good thing we'll be in the same dorm." Annette said as soon as they were safely across the street. "Otherwise, I don't think I'd be able to survive for very long."

"Oh, you would've been fine." Margaret replied with a reassuring pat to her friends back.

Annette rolled her eyes. She was about to protest when children's shouting exploded from inside the train station. The friends exchanged concern looks before running inside to investigate the commotion.

Margaret and Annette pushed themselves through the mob of students repeatedly shouting, "Fight!" The attraction to this chant laid at the bottom of the stairs. There was a boy with blonde hair, about Annette's age, fighting three other older boys. An unfair advantage.

The two friends were not like one of those immature children who cried "Fight!" when they saw a public brawl. Instead, the two girls watched in silence, slightly annoyed with how no one was acting their age.

"Oh, this is stupid." Margaret exclaimed, "What on earth is going on?" As soon as the words left her mouth, a boy with dark brown hair, appearing to be about Margaret's age, brushed passed her.

"Edmund!" A little girl next Margaret exclaimed as the boy joined in the fight, losing his hat in the process. Instead of being annoyed that someone had pushed her, like Annette thought Margaret would be, she was surprisingly silent. In fact, she didn't even move. Annette smiled to herself.

Surprisingly, the dark haired boy apparently named Edmund, fought extremely well. Annette had expected him to be the lesser fighter, but in all actuality he was doing better than the older one. Margaret suddenly turned towards her. "Do you suppose they're brothers?"

Annette shrugged. They looked similar, but one can never tell. Sometimes people mistake Annette and Margaret for being sisters. It's actually funny considering Annette has brown hair and green eyes while Margaret has blonde hair and blue eyes. They didn't look similar at all, really. It was their strong bond that made the two friends appear like sisters.

The only worrisome part, for Annette at least, was when two of the boys teamed up to fight the blonde. They pushed him until his head was dangling over the train tracks. Edmund and an opponent were almost equally matched, but Edmund was able to push him aside to go and help his friend. He was attempting to pry someone off when a sharp, sudden whistle filled the station.

That was everyone's cue to leave. Annette took a few steps up the stairs, but Margaret didn't follow. Instead, she went in the opposite direction and grabbed Edmund's hat. She didn't want it to get trampled!

Annette raced down the steps and grabbed Margaret's arm. "What do you think you're doing?"

Margaret didn't say anything. Not wanting to get caught by the older gentlemen, Annette pulled her friend back up the stairs. Margaret was still clutching the boy's hat as the two weaved their way through the scurrying children.

As soon as Annette was sure that they were safe, she turned to Margaret. "You know you're going to have to return that."

"Oh," Margaret smiled. "I know."

Annette shook her head as Margaret headed back to where the fight had just occurred. She followed behind, making sure the older gentlemen were done separating the boys apart. There was no way she wanted to be wrapped up in that.

"Peter," Edmund asked the blond haired boy, scrutinizing the floor. "Did you see where my hat went off to?"

The older boy, Peter, looked up from whatever he was doing just in time to spot the approaching girls. He scowled when he saw Margaret. "She has it."

Annette glared at Peter; she did not appreciate his angered look. Margaret, on the other hand, ignored him entirely. She had other things on her mind at the moment and would rather not have some upperclassman damper her mood.

"I believe this is yours?" Margaret said, handing the hat to Edmund.

"Ah, yes. Thank you." The boy sighed, taking the hat and placing it on his head. He then stuck his hand out. "I'm Edmund, by the way."

"Margaret." She chirped before shaking his hand. "And the girl back there is my friend, Annette." Margaret nodded towards Annette, who greeted with a friendly smile.

"Well, isn't this just swell." Peter mocked. "But we don't need any help from the likes of _you_."

Annette raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"_Thieves_." Peter spat, advancing towards her. "Stealing a hat just to give it back seems out of propriety, doesn't it?" Annette stood her ground. She wasn't about to be scared off by some stupid, ill-tempered boy.

"Come on, Pete. Stop being rude. They were only trying to help!" Edmund chimed in before Annette and Peter could start arguing.

"Last time I checked," Peter said without losing eye contact with Annette. "Stealing wasn't helping."

Annette stared him down, not really liking the boy _or _his attitude. "And last time _I_ checked, accusing someone of stealing isn't the proper way to thank them." The two glared at each other until Peter finally turned away. Annette smiled at her victory.

"Sorry about my brother," Edmund apologized with a guilty smile. "He's just a little upset about the fight. I promise he's not always like this."

Margaret jumped in before Annette could answer, "That's alright. There's really no need to apologize." From behind, Annette rolled her eyes. There certainly was need to apologize! … Just not from Edmund.

"Well, I think it's time for us to go." She eventually said, guiding Margaret away from Edmund.

"See you later." He smiled, waving to the girls before picking up a suitcase lying next to him.

"It was a pleasure meeting you." Margaret said, her blue eyes sparkling.

The two girls walked through the station in a contented silence until Annette found a bench. They claimed the seat by placing their suitcases on the sides and sitting directly in the middle of it. Once situated, Annette smiled over at Margaret. "Well that was certainly interesting."

"Oh, knock it off. I was only being friendly." Margaret disputed with a cross of her arms.

Annette pulled out her new book and nudged Margaret's shoulder. "A little _too _friendly." She loudly laughed, continuing to do so even though her best friend refused to join in. For once Annette didn't mind laughing alone; she was happy for her.

"Shut up and read your stupid book." Margaret shushed Annette with a wave of her hand. Her friend stifled her giggles and opened to the first page. The two were silent as she read and Margaret pouted beside her. That is, until Margaret got sick of the silence. She suddenly turned to Annette, desperately grasping her arm. "Read to me?"

Annette sighed at her childlike friend but started to read her new book aloud nonetheless. As Annette's voice entered through Margaret's ears, she looked to the picture on page two. There was a very detailed forest sketched onto the page and Margaret was completely absorbed in it.

But, then she noticed something peculiar…


	2. The Tree Tops

**Hey everyone! It's Mistrostrings writing here! ^^ I hope you all liked MisticLight's first chapter! *round of applause* So, yes, we are co-writing the story and the Margaret character is the one I like to deem... My child. Only, ya know... I just made her up. BUT YES! That is the case.**

**This story can only be posted on one account, so you will just have to read it here.**

**Thanks so much for reading everyone! -_^ REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!**

**Infinite X's and O's,**

**Mistro~**

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Margaret curiously scooted closer to Annette as she began to read the book aloud. It was something she would often do; sit and have Annette read to her. Not because Margaret was lazy or lacked any note of intelligence, but because she was still a youth at heart. Her imagination went wild when she heard Annette read aloud to her, and one thing Margaret loved above all else was to let her imagination run free.

"'Marcus wasn't sure of where he was headed'," Annette read aloud, her voice dripping with sincerity. Margaret smiled up towards her friend as she read. Mockingly, she poked her on the shoulder. Annette curiously turned towards her friend. "You're interrupting the story again, Margaret."

Margaret grinned with pleasure, her pale face suddenly flashing a shade of pink. "But Annette, when you read it's so funny! You get so... so serious!" Chuckling, she playfully nudged her friend once more. "I'm only teasing you. I do want you to go on."

Raising a brow, Annette merely glared at her friend. Always the jester, she thought with a smile. "Alright, alright. I will keep reading." She pushed Margaret away from her with a laugh. "You say that I'm so serious, but look at you! You're nuzzled up right next to me. It's you who always gets entranced in the story."

Margaret quickly put a finger to her lips, shushing Annette. "Didn't you say you were going to read? All I hear is nonsense-"

"Yes, yes!" Annette grumbled, pointing out her spot on the page. "Let's see... Where were we?" Her eyes sparkled for a brief moment before that inevitable smile reappeared on her face. "Yes, this was it. 'Marcus wasn't sure of where he was headed, but he could sense something in the trees around him...'"

Margaret leaned forward once again, her ears still tuned. The rolling of the trains didn't seem to affect her attention. The only sound she could hear was Annette's high-spirited voice as the words flooded from the page.

"'It was a cold place,'" Annette continued. "'Yet, Marcus could see the sun. He could see it on the dark trees. Wherever he was, he felt as though it were dangerous.'"

Margaret's eyes shifted from the lines in the book to a picture on the page. She smiled at the classic artwork. There were trees, many of them, hunched together and dark. The pencil strokes were thin and anyone could notice the tiniest of details on each branch. The curves of the bark, the crinkles in the leaves... it was all there before Margaret's eyes. And just as Annette had read, the drawing managed to squeeze in a small creek of sunlight from the top of the trees.

Margaret stared at the picture for a long time. In reality, she wasn't sure how long she had been staring at it. What felt like hours passed by, but somewhere in the back of her mind Margaret knew that wasn't possible. Annette's voice was a low hum in her brain. She could focus on nothing but that picture. The cracks on the trees seemed almost colorful to her. She felt like she was beginning to see the deep brown of the bark and the black of the dirt. Margaret smiled, cocking her head to the side. "Wow, it's almost like it's-"

Cutting herself off, Margaret leaned closer to the picture with her brows knitted tightly together. As though her imagination were taking her sense hostage, the leaves on the tree began to sway back and forth. The green tint in them was coming out more and more. Tightly, Margaret shut her eyes, waiting for this all to go away when she reopened them.

But, it didn't. Everything was simply becoming brighter, with more movement spilling from the picture. Quickly, she grabbed her friend's arm.

"What on Earth?" Annette shrieked, slamming the book to the ground. "The words!" She cried. "The words started moving!"

Margaret snapped out of her thoughts and looked back towards the story. Annette was right. The words were moving. And quickly! All of them were separating as though they needed to give something room. "This isn't happening..." Annette said as a train began to pass them. The _clank-chu-chunk-clank-chu-chunk_ of the train was ringing in their ears, louder and seemingly never-ending.

Annette shot her eyes around the room. The train was whipping by them without a trace of stopping. Yet, the people at the station were frozen in movement. She stared at a woman next to them, unable to speak as she noticed her still legs. Her arm was out as though to grab the train handle, but she made no further effort to grab it. "Margaret!" Her voice was overflowing with fear as she screamed out.

However, Margaret's focus was still on nothing but the book. The words were now on the edge of the page, some of them seemingly gone forever. The picture now took up both pages and continued to grow. She could not only see the trees moving, and see the sun shining, but she could _feel_ it. She could feel the warmth radiating onto her legs, almost smell the pine and fresh forest air. Entranced, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

"Margaret!" Annette begged, grabbing her friend's arm. "Why are you making that face? What's wrong? Something is..." She began to breathe heavily. Something was overwhelming her as well. She also shut her eyes, but only to try and calm herself down. "Please, please tell me that I'm not going insane." Lightly, she felt someone grab her arm.

"Annette," Margaret whispered. "Let's go inside."

Annette froze, her jaw nearly dropping. "What... What do you mean g-go inside? Snap out of it! We're dreaming! We're... we've just fallen asleep while I was reading!" Pleased with her made up ideas, she pinched herself in attempt to wake up. Still, the train roared past them and the sun grew hotter. "... Why isn't this working? Why aren't I waking up?"

"Annette!" Margaret cried, taking her irrational friend by the shoulders now. "Stop worrying! Can't you smell it?" Annette slowly turned her head downwards towards the book on the floor. A sudden rush of pine filled her nose. "Can't you feel that sun?" And just like Margaret, Annette could feel it.

No longer hesitant, Annette took a step closer to the book. "Now that you mention it..." She whispered, still getting closer and closer. "It does smell rather nice."

Slowly, she lifted her foot off the ground. "If only I could..." Annette slowly set her foot on top of the picture. Only, it didn't stop. Her foot continued going further inside. "... Go inside for a while." With her eyes wide and glowing, Annette dropped her leg in.

In an instant, she disappeared from sight.

Margaret stood alone at the train station. She looked around her. The people were beginning to move unnoticeably at first, but Margaret could tell as time passed. "No!" She cried as the train's screeching began to quiet down. "I have to go too! Wait for me!"

And without thinking, Margaret jumped into the almost disappearing picture.


	3. Into the Woods

**Hello there! MisticLight typing!**

**So, if you haven't figured it out by now, Annette is my character while Margaret belongs to MistroStrings. Either way, thanks so much for all your kind reviews, and for putting us on your alert/favorite list. We truly appreciate it!**

**Happy reading! And don't be afraid to voice yourself and pop in a review ;)**

**~MisticLight**

~.~.~.~.

As soon as Margaret jumped into the painting, she was right next to Annette. They were gently falling and both found delight in floating through the air. After a few minutes of this, however, they suddenly stopped in the sky. Annette and Margaret were even more elated by this. When does one ever get the chance to be in the sky without some sort of flying machine?

Annette reached up and swiped her hand through a cloud, having always wanted to do so. "Where are we?" She asked Margaret as she examined her hand. The cloud, as expected, was very flimsy and her hand had swept right through.

Margaret shrugged, smiling the whole time "I don't know, but I like it so far." Seeing Margaret's smile made Annette copy the gesture. All around the girls was a bright blue sky; a sky far more striking than anything England had offered them.

When Margaret looked below her feet, she could see green. Not so much a shade matching that of grass, but similar to those of trees. She pointed to it. "Is that a forest?" Margaret wanted confirmation from Annette just in case her thoughts were wrong. She wasn't sure of anything at this point, and her friend tended to be more rational than she.

Annette bent over, examining the earth. "I think so, but it's a little hard to tell from way up here." Both girls squinted at the image, but then they suddenly felt slight wind upon their faces. Their eyes started to water and their hair began rising above them. "We're falling?" Annette instantly turned pale. "Margaret, please tell me we're not falling!"

Margaret couldn't answer. Her own fear was overpowering her voice. The girls grabbed hold of each other, but couldn't surpass the screams lifting in their throats. Something deep within them told them everything would be all right and that there was nothing to fear. They were falling a bit too fast for their liking, but besides that everything was actually going quite smoothly… until they hit the tree tops. That's when their terror finally set in.

They slammed into the top of the forests with such a force that their cries were carried off by the unexpected force. The girls were attacked, mainly in the face, by leaves and twigs. Sometimes, even a small branch would painfully whack them in the side.

Once they finally escaped the leaves, they fell directly into a cushion of overgrown bushes. Annette was the first to recover from this terrible drop. She sat up and picked a twig out of her hair. "Well, this certainly isn't England!" She muttered, slowly becoming a bit annoyed with this land.

Margaret, who had her eyes closed for the duration of the fall, finally allowed herself to look around. It was obvious that they were in a forest of some sort, but she couldn't tell which one. The trees were tall, the surrounding plants were a bit too big, and everything was blindingly green. Suddenly, the answer became obvious. Margaret childishly smiled as she began to recognize the details of the wood. "Annette!" She sat up, looking at her friend excitedly. "This is the exact same picture from your book. This is the one we stepped into. We're in the book!" She paused as she thought about some other possibilities "Or at least the place your book was based off of…"

For Annette, there was only one way to prove that. She looked around until she found the tree that had first drawn her attention in the store. This tree looked like the others from far away, but if someone really stared at it they would see a little wave it made about half way up. "You're right." Annette gasped, snapping her attention back to Margaret. "But that still doesn't explain where we are!"

"Why, you're in Narnia." An accented male voice chuckled behind Annette. The voice made both girls jump, given that hadn't heard this man approach. Wanting to make sure he wasn't threatening, Annette quickly spun around to investigate this foreigner. The boy had dark hair and looked about Annette's age. His brown eyes appeared to be bit large as he looked at these oddly dressed girls, but he was probably just as surprised to come across them as they were of him. He had a nice face, Annette noted, which may lead him to be a courteous person, but it's hard to tell with a sword dangling at his side.

Margaret watched the boy carefully as he looked between the two girls. His eyes rested on Annette, who hadn't moved a muscle since she had turned to look at the boy. "And who are you?" Margaret questioned after a long pause.

"I am Prince Caspian, the Tenth." The boy tried to smile, but he was also weary of the unexpected visitors. He glanced over at Margaret before looking back down at Annette. "Who are you?"

"I-I'm…" Annette began before coughing since she felt her voice about to crack. She didn't understand why she suddenly became so nervous. "I'm Annette."

"Margaret." Chirped the blonde, before standing to brush the leaves and dirt off her school uniform. "So, you say that you're a Prince? Well, Your Majesty, what exactly is a _Prince_ doing out in the woods alone, hm?"

Caspian's face suddenly became solemn. "That is a bit of a long story, I'm afraid."

"Oh," Margaret muttered. "I apologize." She walked over to her friend, trying to ignore her burning curiosity. Normally Margaret wouldn't think anything of her question, but if Caspian hadn't sounded so miserable she wouldn't be as curious.

Annette still sat on the ground. She also wanted to know why Caspian, who was Prince of this world called Narnia, was in the woods without any guards. However, her curiosity was not as strong as Margaret's. In fact, she forgot all about it once she saw Caspian's hand in front of her face. "Need a hand?" She heard him say in that unknown dialect of his.

"Well…" Annette looked from the hand to Caspian's face. To her surprise, she couldn't form any other words. Luckily, Margaret was now standing behind Annette. If she hadn't been there to be a good friend and kick Annette lightly in the back, Annette might have sat for days. "Yes… yes, thank you." She took Caspian's hand and was pulled to her feet. Annette then brushed the dirt off her own uniform, shyly smiling the whole time.

Caspian quizzically eyed their attire. "You are not from around here, are you?"

"Not exactly." Annette continued to smile. "We live… elsewhere." She wasn't sure whether Caspian would believe they got here by stepping into a book and falling out of the sky, and Annette certainly didn't want to sound crazy to the first person they had met in this world.

Margaret was about to jump into the conversation by mimicking Caspian and saying _'That's a bit of a long story, I'm afraid' _when she heard some rustling nearby. "What's that?" Everyone fell silent as they listened, but the sound stopped soon after their silence came.

Annette couldn't decide whether or not the sound was that of a friend or a foe. She did, however, feel quite safe knowing that there was a Prince nearby with a sword who would hopefully protect them if it was that of an enemy. She moved a little closer to Caspian, who had suddenly been deemed her protector.

Margaret quickly started thinking of all the things that noise could be. She loved using her imagination, and was quite creative with it. What she was really hoping for was that the noise belonged to her favorite mythical creature, a Minotaur. Margaret knew this wish was a long shot, but she also knew that this world was definitely different from the one she was used to. Anything was possible… right?

Caspian, however, instantly knew who the rustling belonged to. He rolled his eyes before turning around and facing two trees. "I can hear you." The tiniest bit of annoyance rung out in his voice.

At first, nothing emerged from behind the trees. But once the mysterious noise had a face, it was something neither Annette nor Margaret could have ever imagined.


	4. Stories of the Past

**MISTROSTRINGS here ^^ Hope you all liked MisticLight's last chapter. I KNOW I DID. Hope you guys keep reading the story! Please review and comment!**

**FOR NARNIA!**

**~mistrostrings**

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From behind a tall, thin tree, the most unexpected thing came out. Margaret's jaw dropped as a surprised gasp was about to escape her lips. Not wanting to be rude, she quickly shut her mouth and let her eyes express her shock. She looked over at Annette whose face wore just as much revelation as her own.

The small badger stumbled out from behind the tree, walking on two legs. "A-Annette…" Margaret whispered, nudging her friend. "Aren't they supposed to walk on _four_ legs?" The badger shot her a warning look upon hearing her words. Margaret's frightened eyes shot down towards the ground in embarrassment. "I didn't think he would hear me."

Caspian continued glaring at his surprise guest with annoyance.

"I just think we should wait for the Kings and Queens!" The badger said with a heavy sigh. Annette looked over at Margaret with a sudden twinkle in her eyes. Her heart, though she did not show it, was fluttering at the announcement of _'Kings and Queens'_. They really _weren't_ in England.

Annette noticed Margaret's discomfort hadn't changed. She followed her friend's line of vision, only to stumble upon... "A dwarf?" Annette asked aloud, raising her brow. The short man also gave her a warning look, but kept quiet. His dirtied and wrinkled face was tight and unwelcoming.

Margaret gently took her friend's hand. "I don't know if I like him very much. I was rather hoping it would be someone more pleasant. He has a melancholy look about his face, don't you agree?" Annette nodded. Even though she felt threatened, she knew she was safe with Caspian at her side.

"Come on." Caspian said bitterly. He moved away from the others and began trekking through the tall forest grasses. Annette and Margaret followed him silently.

"Fine!" The badger cried out to him. "Go then! See if the others will be as understanding!" His short, black arms folded across his fuzzy chest.

"Well... maybe I'll come with you!" The dwarf was a bit less persistent than the badger and quickly found his spot next to Margaret. "I want to see you explain things to the Minotaurs." His words obviously disturbed all of them. Caspian was quick to turn around and voice his concern.

"Minotaurs?" Caspian questioned. "They're real?"

Margaret quickly let Annette's hand fall. In excitement, she dropped to her knees and became eye level with the dwarf. "Did you really say _Minotaurs_? Oh, is it true?" She cried as her face glowed with excitement. "Are they really here? In…" She paused, forgetting the name already.

"Narnia," The dwarf grumbled with a roll of his beady eyes. "And yes, of course they're here." Margaret didn't mind his hostility as long as his words were true. "What's getting you so excited?"

"You don't understand," she laughed. "Ever since I was able to read fairy tales, I've always loved the idea of Minotaurs. They're so big and overpowering!" She clasped her hands together, sighing dreamily. "To see one in the flesh… That would be the ultimate dream."

"This isn't some kind of fairy tale," The badger replied. "They're here and they're real." He glanced up at Caspian. "And _very_ bad-tempered."

"Yeah," The dwarf also gave a teasing look at Caspian. "And not to mention _big_."

"_Huge_." The badger corrected.

Margaret stood up and placed her hands on Annette's shoulders. "Did you hear that Annette?" She whispered. "Huge! He said they were huge!" Annette nervously shrugged her friend off. She didn't understand her friend's excitement. Large, unforgiving creatures were not something she was particularly dying to see.

The badger and the dwarf began walking again. Caspian was the one to follow this time. "What about centaurs? Do they still exist?"

The badger cracked a small smile. "Well, the Centaurs will probably fight on your side." Caspian smirked, pleased with this response. "But there's no telling what the others will do…"

Annette paused suddenly, causing Margaret to run straight into her. "Is something wrong?" She asked. Annette said nothing, simply staring at Caspian and the creatures walking ahead. After a moment or two, Caspian must have noticed things had gotten quieter. He quickly spun around to see the girls frozen a few feet away from them.

"What's wrong with them?" The dwarf snickered.

"You said _fight_," Annette stated firmly. There was no warmth on her face. There wasn't even curiosity. She was putting on her strict face, the one Margaret was fearful of. And she was fearful for a reason. "What do you mean _'fight on your side'_?"

Caspian looked down nervously at the animals, who looked back up at him. "You mean, you haven't told them?" The badger said, cocking his head to the side.

Caspian shook his head. "I… I just met them. How was I supposed to trust them?" Slowly, he lifted his head. His eyes locked with Annette. Though her heart began to beat louder and quicker than before, she remained firm. She would not crack until she knew an answer. "Why… why don't you explain things?" Caspian quietly said to the badger.

The badger nodded, taking a step closer to the girls. "Sit." He said, pointing to a tree stump. Carefully, Margaret and Annette followed his orders. "My name is Trufflehunter. My friend is Nikabrik." The girls nodded their heads politely towards them.

"Annette." One said.

"Margaret." Replied the other.

Trufflehunter politely nodded as well. "A pleasure." He paused, taking a heavy sigh. "Where do I even start?"

"Just skip to the good stuff." Nikabrik said, obviously not interested in story time.

Trufflehunter shrugged his fuzzy shoulders. "Well, many years ago, Narnia was filled with every kind of creature you could think of; Minotaurs included." he said, offering Margaret a small smile. She couldn't help but wiggle in her seat with excitement. "Our Kings and Queens could not stay forever. They were different." He paused, meeting their eyes. "Just like you."

"You mean they were humans?" Margaret whispered with astonishment.

"From Earth?" Annette finished.

"Yes." Trufflehunter nodded. "We have humans in Narnia, only they are not the same realm as you. Our Kings and Queens were from your land and they ruled Narnia as well as everyone in it for many wonderful years." Margaret frowned. _What was the problem, then?_ "One forgets the importance of home sometimes though, as did our Kings and Queens."

Annette nodded, understanding. "They had to go back. They had to leave Narnia."

Sadly, he nodded. "Since their disappearance, the Telmarines have invaded Narnia. They pushed talking… _'beasts'_… like us into the woods." Hurt dripped from every word as he spoke. Margaret stared at his soft face, noting the sadness locked in his black eyes. "Even the trees were considered monsters. They drove their memories underground… They forgot about the lightness and gentleness that Narnia stood for. Some of the animals can't even remember how to speak anymore."

There was a small silence. "You…" Annette said, redirecting her gaze to Caspian. "Who are you in all of this?"

The creatures looked up at him, curious to see what he would say. "My father was King Caspian the Ninth. He was a good man…" The badger's hurt stare transferred to the young man. Caspian could no longer look at them. He stared bitterly at the ground as his voice dropped to a whisper. "He died. My Uncle Miraz now claims to be the rightful Telmarine King. I have left them after his son was born." His voice was nearly gone. "I was frightened of what they might do to me."

"Yeah, that's about it. He ran away and we got stuck with him." Nikabrik said. "Truth be told, he's not all that bad. At least, not half as bad as that Uncle of his."

Caspian's eyes flashed a shade of red. "I am _not_ like my Uncle."

"Alright, alright, that all makes sense," Annette said quickly as she feared Caspian's wrath. "Just tell me one thing. You said you would wait on the Kings and Queens." Margaret nodded. "Does that mean they're coming? Are they coming back?"

Caspian looked up. "I used a signal. I did not know what it was at the time. We believe that it might have called them back." His eyes glanced up at the sky for a moment as his imagination was set free. _Who were these noble leaders?_ Margaret couldn't help but wonder as Caspian continued. "I wish to create an army; an army of Narnians to go against my uncle and his plans. With Kings and Queens, I do not know what will happen, but I suspect they might help." The forest creatures nodded and the pack began to carry on their journey.

"It looks like the story is over…" Margaret whispered, helping Annette stand up.

"I suppose." Annette said. She sighed heavily. It was all so much to take in. She couldn't help but feel insecure in the woods now that she knew the dangers hiding behind them. What if the Telmarine men were out in the woods that very moment? What if they were still trying to find Caspian? The boy was freshly tired, it was clear he had just run away. They wouldn't give up the hunt so quickly. Annette pushed the thoughts aside and continued walking.

"I have one more question," Caspian said slowly. "What… about Aslan?"

The dwarf and badger did not look too kind when they turned around to face him. In fact, they looked furious. "How do you know so much about us?" Nikabrik said with warning in his voice.

Caspian shrugged. "Stories."

"Wait a minute," Trufflehunter said, surprised. "Your father told you stories about Narnia?"

"No…" Caspian said hesitantly. "My professor." The creatures looked at one another in surprise. "Listen," Caspian said suddenly. "I am sorry. These are not the kind of questions you should be asking." The anger now turned over to Caspian, who stormed past the creatures. Heat was getting passed around to each member of the group. It was obvious that no one was very happy, and everyone just needed a second or two to breathe.

"Caspian, wait!" Annette whispered beneath her breath. Leaving Margaret behind, she rushed past the three others. Caspian looked surprised when he saw her show up at his side. He paused, letting her step in front of him. "Who… Who is Aslan?" She whispered, hoping the two Narnians wouldn't hear. His brown eyes stared at her face for a moment. That quick beating in her chest started again. Caspian couldn't answer, but not because he didn't want to.

Something was coming.

"What is it?" Nikabrik asked curiously as Trufflehunter sniffed the air.

"Human." He replied.

Nikabrik jerked a thumb at Annette and Caspian. "Them?"

"No…" Trufflehunter said fearfully as he turned his head. "_Them_."


	5. An Unwelcoming Reception

**MisticLight here and I'm really excited to write this next part because it's one of my favorite scenes in the movie! But first… I would like to defend this story. We got a pretty expressive comment (which is now saved on my laptop but gone from the reviews. Feel. My. Wrath. :D), and I'd just like to say a few words on it.**

**We're making this story for our amusement and for those who wish to share it with us. If you don't like it, that's your opinion. But please don't ruin the spirit and saying something that'll just make people upset. We'd rather have you send us a personal message telling us what you have a problem with. But ignorance is no excuse, is it? _Leave_ if you don't like it. We love it, numerous people love it, and there's nothing you can do to stop that. So unless you'd like to be humiliated, please… feel free to message us.**

**Happy Reading Everyone!**

**~MisticLight**

~.~.~.~.

Annette looked over Caspian's shoulder to see what Trufflehunter was talking about. At first she though the badger was delusional because all she could see was the green of the woods. But then she saw the glint of armor, heard the shouts of men from afar. They raised their crossbows once they spotted the travelers. Margaret worriedly looked back at Annette.

"Run!" Trufflehunter shouted. The girls didn't waste any time following the Badgers orders. Margaret quickly ran past Trufflehunter and Nikabrik in order to catch up to her friend. They were happy knowing the other was safe and hoped it would remain as such.

This was the first time Margaret and Annette had been chased by soldiers, or anything for that matter. So when they saw Caspian begin weaving through the trees up ahead, they picked up his pattern. This was when Margaret first noticed an arrow firmly plant itself in a nearby tree. As she inspected it, a second arrow whizzed by her ear with a short _fwish_. She rubbed her ear with her shoulder as if it would erase the ringing noise in her head.

Annette suddenly yelped and her head ducked out of Margaret's vision. Seconds later, an arrow stuck itself into the tree directly in front of her. With wide eyes Margaret looked back to Annette, who was hastily brushing the top of her hair with her hands. _That was almost too close._

The arrows were slowly closing in, becoming more precise the longer they fled. Yet the forest seemed never ending and everyone was quickly running out of breath. Nothing was working in their favor. Annette suddenly dropped from Margaret's sight again, as if further proving their misfortune, and she heard the concerned voice of Nikabrik say, "Oh no!" Margaret feared something happened to Margaret and instantly stopped in her tracks, almost falling over in the process.

Margaret and Caspian turned in sync; both were relieved when they saw that Annette was still safe. However, that uneasy feeling returned to Margaret once she saw Trufflehunter lying helplessly on the ground next to Annette with an arrow protruding from his body. She and Nikabrik dashed forward to help their friends.

"Wait!" Caspian said, causing her to stop with a gentle touch to her shoulder. "I'll go." He ran towards Trufflehunter and Annette as fast as he could, ignoring his lack of breath.

Margaret started to follow Caspian, disregarding his attempt to be chivalrous, but Nikabrik grabbed hold of her hand. Her face was not kind when she looked down at the dwarf, but his held no sympathy towards her either. "They'll be fine! Come on!" He started tugging on her arm, intent on Margaret coming with him. There was nothing she could do to change his mind. Margaret looked at Annette and Trufflehunter one last time before turning and running with the dwarf.

She didn't run very far. Margaret was forcing Nikabrik to stop so they could wait for their friends. There were no longer arrows flying their way; something Margaret was quite pleased about. However, her joy turned to dread when she realised the arrows silence was because they were now focused on closer targets: Annette, Trufflehunter, and Caspian.

Annette had other things on her mind than her own safety. When she was running with Margaret, she had been listening for the arrows. That's how she was able to dodge the one that almost hit her in the head and also how she was able to hear Trufflehunter's cry once he was hit. Without even thinking, she stopped running _away_ from the approaching soldiers and started to run _towards_ them in order to help the badger.

Once Annette reached Trufflehunter, he started waving some sort of horn in her face. "Take it! Go!"

"But what about-" She began.

"It's more important than I am." The badger argued with pleading eyes. Annette looked to the white horn. _How can this possibly be more important than a life?_ Her eyes dodged to Trufflehunter's pained face; she simply couldn't refuse him. With a defeated sigh, Annette took the horn and began tying it around a little loop on the skirt of her school uniform.

Just as she started, Caspian knelt down beside her. "I will take Trufflehunter. Go back with your friend." He said, startling Annette and making her drop the horn.

She fumbled through the tall grass for the instrument, all the while cursing herself for dropping it in the first place. For a brief moment she looked up to see how close the soldiers were, and much to her dismay, they were all only a few feet away. Annette and Caspian exchanged a nervous look when they noticed their loaded crossbows were aimed at them.

"Ah-ha!" Annette triumphantly shouted once her hands finally grazed the lion shaped side of the horn. Her victory was short lived; a soldier instantly appeared a few feet away with his weapon circling between the three of them. Instead of launching his arrow, he disappeared into the grass.

Caspian and Annette exchanged looks; this time more confused than fearful. A second man quickly followed the first into the grass with a painful grunt. The other soldiers seemed bewildered, but focussed on their main targets.

There wasn't time to think. Annette quickly gathered up the mysterious horn as Caspian picked up Trufflehunter. The arrows started up once more, hitting the surrounding trees rather than the moving targets. Annette tried to listen for the arrows again, but was distracted too by the sounds of falling men. She desperately wanted to look back and see what was happening, but was too afraid of running face first into a tree.

When they reached Nikabrik and Margaret, Annette went directly to her friend. Margaret was quick to embrace her. "_Never_ do that again!" She scolded Annette, who jokingly rolled her eyes. Margaret glared at Annette before Trufflehunter was suddenly thrust into her arms by Caspian.

She looked up at the Prince questioningly. "Get him out of here." Caspian replied to Margaret's curiosity before heading back towards the soldiers.

"What are you doing?" Annette gasped, grabbing him by the arm. She tried to sound stern, but her voice betrayed her by sounding more like worry.

Caspian freed his arm from Annette and locked eyes. "Buying some time." With that, he walked towards the oncoming soldiers and the mysterious danger lurking beneath the weeds. He assumed everyone would run to safety during his distraction, and they would have too, but Annette refused to move.

Margaret knew her friend was worried; she had a tendency to worry over these apprehensive situations. "Annette, we have to go." She harshly said in an attempt to snap Annette out of her trance, but she didn't move. Sighing, Margaret passed Trufflehunter to Nikabrik and pulled on her friend's elbow.

With her pulling, Margaret was able to move Annette back a few paces before she yanked her elbow out of Margaret's grasp. "Annette, we have to move."

"But look." Annette pointed ahead. Margaret, giving up hope on trying to move her friend, looked over at what _used_ to be the approaching danger. Except now there were only two soldiers left.

"Wait, what happened? Surely Caspian didn't defeat all those guys already!" Margaret whispered, but she was quickly shushed by Annette. One of the soldiers fell into the grass, leaving only one to be dealt with. This was when Margaret first took notice of the danger in the grass. "Annette?"

"Margaret, _please _be quiet." Annette quieted her friend again. She was nervous about whatever was lingering on the forest floor, certain that it wasn't a friend of the Narnians. Once the final soldier dropped his crossbow, Annette's thoughts went with it. He now had out a sword of his own and was aimlessly chopping away at the grass.

"But, what _is_ that?" The persistent Margaret pushed. "It can't be too bad though, right? I mean, it did just take out that soldier." Annette couldn't answer Margaret, being just as baffled as she was. So the two friends silently watched as the last man fell to his doom, but then the thing started to come _towards _Caspian!

Annette began twisting a strand of her hair, not knowing if she'd just get in the way if she tried to help. She and Margaret, having grown up in a somewhat peaceful English town, never learned any combat skills. So any of their help, as brave as it may be, would only result in being dangerous to all involved.

Caspian flew backwards as an object was hurled from the rustling grass. His sword flew to the side, leaving him helpless. Despite this, Annette and Margaret found themselves exchanging puzzled glances. The last thing either of them expected to see was a mouse standing on Caspian's chest. Even more shocking was when the rodent protruded a sword and began to talk.

"Choose your last words carefully, Telmarine." He bravely ordered. Margaret and Annette exchanged yet another look.

"You are a mouse…" Caspian said just as puzzled as the two girls felt.

The mouse sighed, clearly disappointed with what Caspian had said. "I was hoping for something a little more original." He straightened out of his stoop before wavering his sword between Caspian and the forlorn blade. "Pick up your sword."

"Uh…" Caspian looked over at his weapon, hesitant about grasping the metal handle. "No, thanks."

The rodent threateningly moved closer to Caspian's face, determined to fight a human four times his size. "Pick it up! I will not fight an unarmed man."

"Which is why I might live longer if I choose not to cross blades with you, noble mouse."

"I said I would not fight you." The mouse squeaked with an aggressive undertone. He flashed his blade in front of Caspian's nose. "I didn't say I'd let you live!"

"Reepicheep!" Trufflehunter shouted. All eyes were instantly on him. "Stay your blade!" Trufflehunter was protecting Caspian, but Margaret couldn't help but notice the smug smile Nikabrik was wearing. He was actually enjoying this.

"Trufflehunter?" The mouse, Reepicheep, said clearly baffled as to why the badger was protecting Caspian. "I trust you have a _very _good reason for this untimely interruption."

"He doesn't. Go ahead." Nikabrik stated, gaining himself a glare from Annette.

Trufflehunter pitifully shook his head. "He's the one who blew the horn."

Reepicheep studied Annette and Margaret before Trufflehunter's words settled in. He lowered his sword, his tiny face clearly confused by the whole situation. "What?"

"Then let him bring it forward." Margaret and Annette spun around once the booming voice reached their ears. Talking animals and a dwarf were surprising as it was, but seeing four approaching Centaurs nearly sent the girls in a frenzy. "_This_ is the reason we have gathered."

Margaret's eyes grew wide as she took in the actual life-sized versions of the creatures. She had seen pictures of them in books, but never would have imagined them being so tall. Annette, however, broke out in an excited grin. She had always adored horses back in England, and so came to love centaurs in all the fairy tales she and Margaret read. It was quite exciting for Annette to see how the Centaurs actually looked and acted.

Perhaps this place wasn't so bad after all.


	6. Time to Wake Up

**MistroStrings here! I had to take the story off my account b/c Fanfiction won't let you have double stories. But I'm still writing, so here's my chapter. Hope you all enjoy, and thanks for all the POSITIVE reviews.**

**Keep reviewing please! And reading, of course!**

**Oh my god, my cat is literally playing with my hair right now. O_O It just scared the crap out of me. NOT THAT THAT'S IMPORTANT OR ANYTHING…**

**~Mistro**

~.~.~.~.~

Margaret, despite her best efforts, began to break out into a fit of laughter. Everyone, including the newly gathered centaurs, faced her with questionable expressions. "You're kidding me, right?" She managed to say between giggles. "You!" She pointed to the long haired, dark skinned Centaur. "You're half horse? So, what? Does that make you a Centaur?"

The creature did not look annoyed. He simply bowed his head in a polite gesture. "This is insane!" Margaret cried. "You said they were real, but… I didn't think I'd actually _dream _them up so well!"

Annette gently grabbed her friend's arm. "Margaret." Concern was laced in her voice. "What on Earth are you talking about?"

"I'm dreaming," Margaret chuckled. "Pinch me." Confusion crossed Annette's face as she didn't know what to do. "No, really!" Margaret laughed, nudging her friend. "Do it. Just wait and see. You'll pinch me and I'll wake up. In fact, I'd like to wake up. This dream is all too confusing."

"This isn't a dream." A voice squeaked next to her ear. Margaret jumped in surprise, only to see Reepicheep on her shoulder. "You'd have woken up already. And…" He quickly raised his small arm, jabbing his blade into her shoulder.

"Ouch!" Margaret cried, swatting him off. She looked down to see a red dot forming beneath her jacket.

"See?" The mouse laughed. "You're still not dreaming."

Margaret stood, looking at everyone for a moment. With a heavy sigh, she quietly made her way from the group to sit down on the forest floor. "This is all ridiculous!" She mumbled to herself, patting her sore shoulder. "He should have poked me harder."

Caspian slowly lifted himself from the floor. He raised his hands before him hesitantly, backing away from everyone. "This is not a dream." He said, his voice shaking. "I know this, but what I don't know is what you want me to do. I want you to fight with me, but in order to do that…" His eyes shifted down towards the ground, locking on Reepicheep. "You must _trust _me."

"And we do," The large Centaur said, graciously bowing his head. "Some of us more than others."

Reepicheep scoffed, slinking forward through the grass. "I never said I didn't _trust_ him," He mumbled beneath his breath. "He just seems weak to me." The mouse made his way past the Centaurs. He called back to the group. "Well, are we going or not?"

Annette stepped forward towards the centaur. Her eyes glistened, unable to blink as she looked at the magnificent creature before her. Without it crossing her mind, she bowed to him, now afraid to look him in the eyes. "My name is Annette," She said, her eyes still on the floor. "That is Margaret." She pointed to the girl who was still moping on the ground. "We're not sure why we're here. We're not queens or fairies. There is no royal blood in either of us. We're just students from-"

"Students?" The Centaur smiled at her. "Just as you were students back in your land, you are students here. My name is Glenstorm. Will you help us?" Annette, bewildered, nodded without even thinking. Hesitantly, she turned around and glanced as Caspian. His eyes were downcast as his mind travelled elsewhere. "You look at him for help," Glenstorm mumbled to her. "Don't. You are a fighter yourself. I see it in you even if you may not."

"A fighter?" Margaret laughed, pulling pieces of grass from the Earth. Her back was to them, but she continued to listen. "That's a joke if I ever heard one. We couldn't even fence back home. Everyone here uses swords, and bows and arrows!" She laughed, falling onto her back and looking up at the tree tops. "You can all go along and fight. I'll just stay here in the forest until I wake up."

Glenstorm grinned despite himself. "She's…"

"Charismatic," Annette finished for him. "But highly confused and most likely tired. She often has a huge imagination, but I can see the weariness of the day has gotten to her head." They both glanced over at Margaret to find her with her eyes shut. Margaret was exhausted mentally and physically and it showed.

"She can rest back at the meeting place, but we must go," Another one of the Centaurs said. "The others will be awaiting our arrival."

Annette turned around and walked over to Margaret, helping her off the ground. "Come on," She whispered. "You'll be able to sleep soon. We have to go a little bit longer." Margaret nodded, her face drooping. "Don't look so upset! You love the outdoors!" She carefully led her friend back to the others.

"I suppose I do," Margaret sighed. "For an hour or so. Then everything is just too green."

Caspian walked over to the girls, offering them a small smile. "You will come with us?" His accent dripped from his words. "I would be most gr-"

Annette nodded. "Of course we are. We're not leaving you." Caspian's eyes darted towards the ground once again. Annette blinked, recalling what she had said. Her cheeks flashed a shade of red in embarrassment. She hadn't even thought before she spoke. It all sounded too dramatic. "I meant to say…" She stuttered, trying to make up for her previous comment. "I meant that… We're here and we have nowhere else to go."

"Yes," Caspian chuckled. "Of course you don't. Come; let us go."

~.~.~.~.~

Things weren't going smoothly. The moon had already come up and multiple voices were trampling over one another to get their opinion out. Caspian stood in the middle of an open space in the woods with his fists clamped tightly at his side. They were all yelling at _him_. He was the target. Glenstorm made things out to be civilized back in the woods. Now it was all aimed at Caspian.

"All this horn proves is that they've stolen yet _another_ thing from us!" Nikabrik shouted, pointing his accusing finger towards Caspian. Margaret and Annette watched from a nearby tree branch, their faces solemn. Margaret glanced over at her friend, whose eyes were glued to nothing else but Caspian. Her mouth was turned down into an irremovable frown. She hadn't even blinked. _There's something about this guy that makes Annette act differently, _Margaret thought to herself. Her thoughts were pushed aside when she heard Caspian cry out.

"I didn't steal _anything_!" Caspian's voice shook as he tried to explain.

"Didn't steal anything?" A large Minotaur laughed in amusement. "Shall we list the things the Telmarines have taken?" Everyone raised their voices and fists in agreement.

"Our homes!"

"Our land!"

"Our freedom!"

"Our _lives!"_

Caspian looked around in disbelief. No one was listening to him, were they? It was as though everything he had said was going in their head, and then leaving it the moment afterwards. "You would hold me accountable for all the crimes of my people?" He questioned them, his eyes scared and confused.

"Accountable…" Nikabrik said, making his way up to him. "And punishable."

Despite the size difference, Nikabrik had the upper hand in the situation. All of the other creatures of the forest were on his side. No one seemed to root for Caspian… almost.

"No." Annette breathed beneath her breath. The thought of punishment to Caspian, for not even doing anything wrong, sickened her. She gripped the branch tightly. Margaret placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Wait, Annette," She whispered. "Wait before you do anything irrational."

A bemused chuckle came from the other side of where Nikabrik stood. Reepicheep jumped off of a rock, his small sword shining and open in the moonlight. "Ha! That is _rich_ coming from you, _dwarf_!" He spat out the last word with almost a hint of disgust. "Or have you forgotten that it was _your_ people who fought alongside the _White Witch_?"

Nikabrik angrily slapped the sword away from his face. "And I'd gladly do it again if it would rid us of these _barbarians_!" His cold eyes once again were aimed towards Caspian. Annette was shaking despite herself.

"Then it's lucky that it is not in your power to bring her back!" Trufflehunter said, limping into the group. Everyone grew quiet. "… Or are you suggesting that we ask this boy to go against _Aslan_ now?"

Annette looked over at Margaret. "Aslan… Caspian mentioned that name in the woods, didn't he?" Margaret nodded, remembering the conversation. "No one explained though," Annette continued in a mumble. "Another mystery we still have to solve."

The group of creatures began to scream and shout with rage. "It's obvious that they like him though," Margaret muttered. "He must be a pretty great man."

"Some of you may have forgotten, but we badgers remember well." Trufflehunter calmly explained things despite the furious creatures. "Narnia was never right except when a Son of Adam was king." Caspian's eyes circled around the group, watching the expressions of the creatures carefully. For a moment he looked up at the girls. Annette in particular was unhappily looking down. Something twisted in his stomach at her solemn expression. They still had no idea what anyone was talking about. Why were they even here?

"He's a _Telmarine_!" Nikabrik shouted, recapturing Caspian's attention. "_Why _would we want him as our _king_?"

"Because, I can help you!" Caspian's teeth were clenched in frustration. All around, Narnians debated on whether or not they should hear him out. In the end, they allowed for Caspian to speak his part. "Beyond these woods... I am a prince! The Telmarine throne is rightfully mine!" Everyone grew silent. With anguish, he circled to see everyone' face. "Help me claim it and I can bring peace between us."

Glenstorm took a step forward. "It is true. The time is ripe. I watch the skies… for it is mine to watch as it is yours to remember, Badger. Tarva, the lord of victory, and Alambil, the lady of peace, have come together in the high heavens. And now here… a Son of Adam has come forth… to offer us back our freedom." As he told the story, he only looked at Caspian. His words were carefully chosen. Who could disagree with such an explanation?

"Is this possible?" A voice squeaked out next to Annette. She screamed in shock, quickly covering her mouth. It was only a squirrel. "Do you really think there could be peace?" The squirrel quickly made his way onto her lap. Annette still held her hands over her mouth in order not to scream. "Do you? I mean… I mean, _really_?"

"Two days ago, I didn't believe in the existence of talking animals!" Caspian said to the group. Margaret laughed. She was still having a hard time with that one. "Or dwarves, or centaurs. Yet here you are in strength and numbers that we Telmarines could never have imagined!" Carefully, he held up the horn. "Whether this horn is magic or not, it brought us together. And together we have a chance to take back what is ours."

"If you will lead us, then my sons and I offer you our swords." Glenstorm quickly ripped out his sword, holding it high above his head.

Margaret gasped. The blade was almost as big as her! More and more creatures pulled out their weapons, holding them honorably before them. "This place is starting to scare me." She whispered to Annette who was gently and nervously stroking the squirrel on her lap.

"And we offer you our lives," Reepicheep said, bowing before Caspian. "Unreservedly." The sudden change in character took both of the girls by surprise. Margaret was considering leaving and finding her own path. Annette could hardly comprehend anything and held the squirrel tighter for it.

"Miraz's army will not be far behind us, sire." Trufflehunter said, labeling him as their leader with only a single word. Caspian held the power now. Annette still looked at him. He was so young. Was he afraid of this task? She sighed heavily. Of course he was. She could see it in his eyes.

"Stop staring at him, he's not going anywhere." Margaret chuckled.

"If we are to be ready for them, we need to hurry to find soldiers and weapons." A look of fear crossed Caspian's face as he exchanged a look with Glenstorm. "I'm sure they will be here soon."

Margaret sighed heavily, placing her hand over her friend's. Annette slowly looked at her. "Are you as scared as I am?" Annette whispered, her voice soft. "I… I feel safe now, but what about later? These Telmarines-"

"Don't think about it," Margaret said quietly. "Let's just be happy that we have people on our side."

"What side are we on?" Annette laughed. "Caspian's? We don't even know how to fight. We've never touched a sword that big, _or_ a bow and arrow."

Margaret grinned, her lips spreading out into a mischievous smile. "That's just because we've never tried it."


	7. Security

**In case you haven't caught on to the pattern yet, this is MisticLight writing. Annnnd… I feel like writing a longish chapter today. Just Cause :) Thanks for all the reviews! We love reading them!**

**And here's something to brighten your spirits: _The Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader_ comes out on DVD April 8th. WHO'S EXCITED?**

**Happy Valentine's Day Everyone!**

**~MisticLight**

~.~.~.~.

Annette cautiously picked up the squirrel and plopped him onto the empty space next to her. She lightly patted it's head, and watched it run off. Dark thoughts began to run through her mind, though she tried to make herself comfortable. Her nervous fingers ran through her hair as she faced Margaret. "What if we're not necessarily fighting material?"

Margaret rolled her eyes. "Like I said, we just haven't _tried _it." She turned to climb down the tree since the branch was starting to become a bit uncomfortable. "Besides," She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder. "We could be the best fighters in _all_ of Narnia."

Margaret winked and flashed a wide grin at Annette, who narrowed her eyes in return. "I seriously doubt that, Margaret."

"If you say so!" She shrugged before descending down the tree. "This is all just a dream anyhow."

"I do say so!" Annette argued as she joined her friend on the ground below. "And would you stop saying that?" Margaret didn't respond. Annette found the ground soon after and quickly turned back to her friend; her hands firmly placed on her hips. "What will it take to convince you that this is _real_?"

Margaret flapped her hand at Annette and plopped down on the soft grass. "Nothing you can do or say will ever convince me."

Annette rolled her eyes. "So, Reepicheep stabbing his sword into your shoulder didn't persuade you at all?" She crossed her arms. Her impatience was clearly evident.

Margaret's fingers jumped to her wounded shoulder. "No!" She sounded childish, but she honestly felt childish. All these stories she was told when she was younger seemed to be coming alive right before her very eyes. Afraid of more scolding, Margaret looked down and began to pick at the grass. "But if this isn't a dream, then what is it?"

Annette sunk down to her knees with a heavy sigh. She was now facing Margaret, but she wasn't quite sure what to say. "Well…." She took a deep breath and started twiddling with her fingers, looking around the forest for any sort of explanation. The clearing where the meeting had just taken place was completely hidden by trees. If someone were to aimlessly walk around in the woods, they would probably never find this place.

Margaret looked up when Annette didn't finish her thought. She wasn't even looking at Margaret, let alone thinking about her question. Annoyed, Margaret turned back to the far more interesting ground.

Annette's wondering eyes never paused until she noticed Caspian conversing with Trufflehunter. _There was something about him_. She thought as she gazed over Margaret's shoulder. _I'm just not sure what exactly it is yet._

Margaret's mumbling tore Annette's eyes away from the young prince. She was still picking at the grass, with each blade making a small _tick_ as it broke from its root. "I bet I'll wake up back in England any moment now." Margaret smiled as she tossed a tiny piece of grass at Annette. "Have you noticed there's no electricity here?" Margaret scoffed. "Or a decent mattress for that matter."

Annette narrowed her green eyes into a sliver. "Margaret! Will you stop being childish? This is real!"

"I'm childish?" Margaret snorted, flinging more grass at Annette. This time a few pieces trickled into her hair. Annette glared as she picked them out. "You're the one believing all this! And besides," Margaret crawled forward to drape her arm around Annette's shoulder. "You only believe it's real because of _him_." She nodded over at Caspian.

"Not true!" Annette hissed through gritted teeth. "Where's that mouse? I don't think he stabbed you hard enough."

She violently shook Margaret's hand off, but all Margaret could do was laugh. Annette's face was reddening, although Margaret couldn't tell whether it was a blush of embarrassment or an angry flush. She opened her mouth to retort back at Annette, but was interrupted by a small squeak.

"Present!" It said. Looking down, the friends were startled to spy Reepicheep standing before them. He had his sword out and was moving it between them both. "Now, which one of you wishes to feel the sting of my blade?" Annette widened her eyes while Margaret stifled a giggle.

"Uh… no thank you, noble mouse." Annette said with a shaky voice. She didn't think he'd actually heard her.

Margaret merely rolled her eyes. Reepicheep instantly pointed his sword at her. "Is there something you wish to say to me?" Margaret didn't say a word. She simply looked directly into the mouse's beady eyes. "Spit it out!" He cried as he crawled onto Margaret's knee, his sword threatening to stab her in the arm. Thinking the sword was no sharper than a toothpick, Margaret put her right finger on the tip of it and pushed it away from her.

Her hand immediately snapped back as a very sharp sting prickled her skin. She looked down at her finger and was quite shocked when a small bubble of blood began to form. Gaping, she looked at the grinning Reepicheep. "…. Ow!" She pushed her left thumb on her finger to halt the flow of blood.

The mouse's tail twitched in triumph. "Never underestimate a man's sword," He said as he sheathed his own. "Especially that of a mouse!"

Margaret briefly looked up from her wounded finger to glare at Reepicheep. He smiled in return and hopped back to the ground. "Well now that that's taken care of, I must be off. We have an attack to plan!"

The brave little mouse started to scurry off, but was quickly stopped by the sound of Annette's voice. "Reepicheep, wait!" He spun around to face one of the new Daughters of Eve. Annette briefly paused, debating with herself. "Who's Aslan?"

Ever since the name 'Aslan' had first been mentioned, Annette wanted to know who this great being was. The mystery of Aslan had been burning inside her brain and she knew she had to find out who he was. Every time his name was said, some of the creatures' eyes would light up with hope and loyalty. Some would seem fearful and unsure. Margaret, upon hearing Annette's question, dropped her hand into her lap and stared at her friend. She too wanted to know who Aslan was, but had never expected Annette to ask the question. She had always made Margaret ask questions to strangers, even if that stranger was a mouse.

Reepicheep looked from Margaret to Annette, his whiskers slightly twitching. "You don't know… who Aslan is?" He slowly weaved himself through the grass once the girls shook their head in unison. "Wrong will be right when Aslan comes in sight. At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more. When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death. And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again."

Annette tilted her head. "What is that?"

"Just an old Narnia prophecy," Reepicheep replied as memories clouded his vision. "The same prophecy that our Kings and Queens of Old followed when they destroyed the White Witch and brought the one hundred year winter to its knees. Now, Aslan is the King of the _whole_ wood, as well as the Son of the great Emperor-beyond-the-Sea." Reepicheep locked eyes with Annette. "I wish to venture there myself one day; to Aslan's country."

"But, what does this all have to do with Aslan himself? Who exactly is he? What importance does he have to Narnia?" Margaret suddenly jumped in.

The small mouse smiled up at her, their small sword incident now forgotten. "I'm just getting started."

Reepicheep began from the very beginning, when Aslan created Narnia. The two friends couldn't believe it when Reepicheep mentioned that he was a lion. Despite their shock, the question 'Why is he a lion?' never entered their heads. Somehow, they were both able to understand. Surely no one with _that _much power would merely be human.

As his story progressed, something curious overcame Margaret and Annette. It was very brief, but present nonetheless. Margaret felt fresh, such as when someone walks from a musty room to the clean outdoors. Her imagination was running wild and every one of Reepicheep's words seemed to have a unique flavor to them. The stress Margaret felt before simply vanished. Annette felt something else entirely. A rush of warmth took over her body, reminding her of when she curled up by the fire to read a good book. She felt a sense of security and love as the words encircled her thoughts.

"And that's when our Kings and Queens entered Narnia and defeated the _wretched_ Witch." Margaret smiled when she saw Reepicheep make a small fist to further emphasize the word 'wretched.' He briefly paused, but when he looked back at the girls, his eyes sparkled. "And remember, he's not a _tame_ lion."

"Hold on. This great, powerful lion created the entire country?" Annette asked. The mouse nodded, thrilled about the girl's excitement.

"So," Margaret sighed nonchalantly. "When do we get to meet him? When does he come around for a visit?"

The mouse walked over to Margaret so he could look her right in the eye. "Remember what I said about him not being a tame lion? Aslan drops in whenever he wants, but you mustn't press him to stay." Margaret nodded as she filed this information in her brain.

No one said another word. They simply basked under the peaceful silence their conversation brought upon them. Margaret drew her attention back to her wound. It had stopped bleeding, but there was a small scratch from where the sword had pierced her. She smiled down at the little wound as she remembered the silly spat she had with Reepicheep. Despite her words, she fancied the mouse in a way.

Footsteps suddenly interrupted their silence. When the three looked over, they saw Glenstorm and another female centaur approaching them. Annette's eyes sparkled under their glory while Margaret simply gazed at them, wondering when she'd get the chance to speak with a Minotaur.

Glenstorm focused on Reepicheep. "It's time."

The mouse looked up at the stars to sniff the air. "Do you think it's late enough?" Glenstorm nodded. "Ah. Well then! What are we waiting for?" Reepicheep produced his sword in a flash. In fact, it was so abrupt that Annette flinched back.

"Wait," Margaret said standing up. "What's happening? Where are we going?"

Glenstorm stared down at Margaret. "We are going to secure weapons for our cause. It is time for the students to be taught."

Annette nervously stood. "But... but we have no training."

"I find it best to learn in the moment." Reepicheep squeaked in Annette's ear after suddenly appearing on her shoulder.

"In good time, they will learn." The female Centaur commented. "But, do you really expect them to fight with _those_ on?" She motioned to the girls' now-ruined school uniform. They hadn't yet been able to change. "I believe some new attire is needed." She motioned for Annette and Margaret to follow.

When they passed by Glenstorm, Reepicheep hopped off Annette's shoulder and onto the centaur's back. He then rose is sword into the air. "A true warrior can fight in anything!"

"In case you haven't noticed," Margaret said over her shoulder. "We're not exactly what you would call '_warriors'_." As the girls walked deeper into the forest, Margaret swore she heard the little mouse chuckle.

~.~.~.~.

For the brief moment Margaret and Annette were at the Narnians' base, or the How, they felt right at home. One wouldn't expect two girls who had grown up in England to like rock caves, but there was something appealing about the aged paintings and yellowed boulders. Each rock held a piece of Narnian history and the girls always loved a new adventure.

As soon as the female centaur handed the friends some proper Narnian attire, a sea blue dress for Margaret and a forest green one for Annette, they had to leave. The two girls were given a sword and a quick combat lesson taught by Reepicheep, but nothing too detailed. They were to be further instructed at a later date. Most likely early the following morning, much to Margaret and Annette's dismay.

The Telmarines were in the process of creating a bridge in order to reach the Narnians. The plan was to sneak up on one of the weapon carriers and take as much as possible. The main party: Caspian, Reepicheep, Glenstorm, Margaret, and Annette. It was a dangerous thing to be thrown into on the first day of training, but the girls knew that things would only get harder. A sneak attack was the easiest thing there were most likely going to encounter.

Caspian was the leader, and knew which Telmarine weapons would be the most useful. No one could hold Reepicheep back from a battle, no matter how small. Glenstorm was to be the transporter of the newly acquired weapons. As for Annette and Margaret, everyone agreed that this would be the perfect practice attack. The risk was small, no matter how dangerous things seemed.

The small party then headed back into the woods. When they reached the last set of trees outlining the Telmarine camp, Margaret cautiously poked her head out. Annette was standing next to her behind the tree, clutching on to Margaret's arm. "Is anyone there?" Her heart was pounding so hard that she was afraid the entire encampment would soon find them.

Margaret slowly brought her head back; it was almost as pale as the moon above them was. She opened her mouth to answer, but no words could form. All she could do was nod. As positive as Margaret was earlier about this being all a dream, she was still afraid. In fact, she couldn't remember a time in her life when she had been more frightened. Annette's grip tightened.

Upon seeing Margaret's expression, Caspian looked down at Reepicheep. "Go on ahead. You know what to do." Reepicheep put his sword in his mouth and scampered off. "But, do not kill anyone! We must not give them reason to show no mercy in the future." The mouse rolled his small eyes. He wanted some action.

"Ow! Annette, let go!" Margaret harshly whispered as she pried off her friend's hand. Her grip was certainly tight enough to feel real.

Annette sheepishly chuckled. "Uh… sorry."

Margaret slowly shook her head before glancing back that the Telmarine camp. The soldier that had been guarding one of the carriers was now gone. With relief, Margaret leaned back against the tree. Air left her lungs from the breath she had been unintentionally holding. Now that the soldier was gone, it was time to leave the safety of the trees.

Caspian carefully crossed from his position to the girls' tree trunk. "Follow me."

Annette nodded and made sure to move closely behind Caspian. Margaret had to take another deep breath before making her appearance and following after everyone. Glenstorm's heavy horse hooves trailed behind her.

Getting to the carrier was much easier than expected. Not a single soldier was in sight. This alone calmed Annette down quite a bit. Margaret, however, kept her guard up. Back in England she had read all sorts of murder-mystery books, and in each one the danger occurred when least expected.

They searched cart after cart, taking weapons under Caspian's approval. He really only tossed aside a few small daggers and some unsharpened swords. Anything they could get their hands on, the better. Annette tried to help Caspian, but soon found that her knowledge on weaponry wasn't very useful. She made to much noise when searching through the metal, and was somehow able to only find the dull, chipped swords. Eventually she found something useful: a small silver dagger with complex little swirls and waves on the handle. It wasn't the fanciest looking dagger, but Annette fell in love with it. "Isn't this lovely?" She found herself saying aloud.

Margaret, who was helping Glenstorm pack the weapons, snapped her eyes towards her friend. "It's lovely. Now, hand it over." She held her hand out. With a sigh, Annette put the little dagger back into its accompanying case.

"You will be receiving weapons eventually, but it will be a while." Caspian smiled at Annette. "Why don't you just keep that one?"

"Really?" Annette's face lit up as she attached the dagger to the belt on her dress, and Margaret found her eyes rolling again. When Annette looked back at Caspian, she found herself blushing. She was thankful for being in the shadows of the cart. "Thank you." Annette and Caspian exchanged smiles.

"Oh, come on, guys." Margaret complained "We really have to-" An arrow suddenly grazed Margaret's right arm and stuck itself into the cart. She cried out in pain before covering up the wound with her spare hand. "I knew I was right about those murder-mystery books!" She cursed beneath her breath. The worst always happened when no one planned for it.

"Margaret!" Annette screamed, jumping out of the car to fret over her friend. She was both scared and worried, and speaking rapidly because of it. "Are you alright? Please tell me you're alright! I knew this would be a bad idea. We should never have come. Margaret, why aren't you answering me? Are you alright or not?"

Obviously Margaret wasn't alright. She was in pain and was afraid that opening her mouth would result in a full-blown scream. Well, assuming Annette left enough space for her to answer in the first place.

Glenstorm looked over his shoulder to see a small group of Telmarines coming at them, crossbows at the ready. "Unless you plan on attacking, I think it's best if we left."

Reepicheep, upon hearing Margaret, scurried out from under the cart. His job was to write them the message of 'You were right to fear the woods. - X' on the final cart as a warning. His job was done, but he was not planning to return to an injured party member. His head snapped from the soldiers to the rest of the party. "We can take them!"

"No, Reepicheep!" Caspian said before climbing out of the cart. The mouse's ears lowered in disappointment. Unfazed by Reepicheep, Caspian turned to Glenstorm. "Can you carry them?" He nodded at the two girls. Margaret, not wanting to show any weakness, was biting her lip to try and direct the pain elsewhere.

Without even giving an answer, the centaur placed both girls on his back and galloped into the forest. Annette held her breath until Caspian, with the protesting Reepicheep on his shoulder, entered the forest. She then directed her attention towards the grimacing Margaret. "Is this _real_ enough for you?"

"Shut up!" Margaret retorted in a bitter, painful shout. The last thing she wanted was Annette's sarcastic remarks, especially since she was trying her best to ignore the stinging in her arm. She tried to think positively, but the only point she could conjure up was knowing they were now secure within the trees.


	8. Fragments of Home

**Hey guys! Mistrostrings here… I hope you like this chapter. Sorry it's a bit longer for all of you who don't feel like reading. ^^ Just split it up in your mind into two chapters and that'll make you feel better, eh?**

**And yeah, April 8th! WOOT WOOT!**

**Narnia furevurzzzz~~**

**~MistroStrings**

~.~.~.~.~

"Margaret…" Someone whispered in Margaret's ear. Her eyes were closed, but she was awake. She could hear a gentle voice, almost a humming noise, calling out to her. She could feel her legs and her arms, but no part of her wanted to move. For the first time since arriving in Narnia, she was relaxed and calm. "Margaret, are you awake? Can you hear me?" The voice continued to grow louder. The hum of it was no longer there; it was clear that it was Annette. "I don't think she can hear me," Annette whispered to someone else. "I'll just stay with her for a while. You can go."

Cracking her eyes open, Margaret slowly darted them around the room. Everywhere she looked was dirt and stone. She was in the How, she knew that much. _Last time I remember, I was in the woods_, she thought quietly to herself. Beneath her she felt soft bedding as she padded it lightly.

"She's awake!" Annette cried. She happily leaned across Margaret's torso; her face now in Margaret's. "You fell asleep on Glenstorm. He just left a moment ago." Margaret remained quiet as she tried to recall when she decided to take a nap. "Alright, so you didn't exactly fall asleep. The blood frightened you and you passed out. You'd probably better get used to seeing it."

Margaret's memory flashed back to earlier. The Telmarines. Reepicheep. The arrow. Casually, her eyes drifted to her arm. She tugged up her green sleeve to see an ivory bandage wrapped tightly against her skin. She felt a sting as she poked at it. "Ow!" Annette frowned, taking her friend's hand in her own.

"Don't touch it," She ordered. "You're only going to hurt yourself more. Glenstorm said it would be alright in a few hours. That is, _if_you don't poke at it." Pathetically, Margaret sighed and flopped her head back on the uncomfortable pillow. _I can feel the pain. There's no way this can be a dream_, she gloomily realized.

"Are you still pondering if this is all real or not?" Annette teased, as if reading her friend's mind.

"Yes, actually," Margaret grumbled as her eyelids flickered shut. "I don't know about you, but even if this is all real, I'd like to sleep through it until this fight is over and we can go back to England."

Annette made no hurried response as her light eyes trailed to the floor. Her legs dangled over the side of the make-shift bed for Margaret as she began to think aloud. "What do we have in England?" Silence filled the room quicker and longer than the girls anticipated. "Our parents," Annette finally said. "We have a family to go back to."

"The only thing I really had back in England was you," Margaret whispered, her eyes drifting towards a sketch on the wall of a young queen. It caught her attention for a while. The queen was small and short with cropped hair just above her shoulders. Whoever the girl was, she was clearly majestic. Though she was daydreaming, it didn't take long for Margaret to snap back into her pessimistic view. "Don't try and fool yourself with the whole parent thing. You know mine were ever barely home. You're more of a family to me than my real one." Annette didn't want to push the touchy topic, especially when her personal family was a mess of its own. Margaret was right though. The friends were like sisters. They fought, they cried, but they loved each other above all else. To show her care, Annette once again took Margaret's hand in hers.

"Don't think about such things." Annette offered a small smile. "Look where we are! We're in Narnia, a fairy-tale land! It's the place we've talked about going to since we were kids. It's all real." She said with wonderment in her voice. "We're inside of it, we're living it; and all we did was read some silly book."

Margaret snickered coldly. "Who will believe it when we go back to England?" Margaret froze. "_If _we go back to England."

Annette's face tightened. She hadn't thought about that. No one would believe it. Maybe it'd be hard for them to believe it themselves after a while. "You're the most imaginative person I know, Margaret. Why are you saying such sensible things? My goodness, you're going to learn how to fight. You ought to forget about _sense_ for a while and just make judgments based on instincts."

Margaret grumbled, but said nothing. Annette couldn't help but grin. That meant she had won the argument.

~.~.~.~

The next morning, the girls were woken up by a slight nudging on their arm. Annette could feel the heat from the candle light beside her, and did not want to move from her comfortable spot. "Miss…" A voice whispered to her. She turned her back to them, snuggling closer towards the warmth. "A-Annette… Please, you must get up. We are leaving soon." Annette's dreams began to take over her as the voice dissipated. Despite her efforts however, she felt another nudge. "Miss-"

Annette grudgingly turned around, cracking her eyes open with agitation. To her horror, she was face to face with Caspian. It didn't take long for her to awake then, as she quickly pulled her covers up closer to her chest. "I'm sorry!" She whispered loudly. "I… I didn't know it was you! Or else, I would have gotten up sooner."

A flush seemed to arise in Caspian's cheeks. "That's alright." His white teeth managed a small smirk. "I tried to wake your friend up, but despite my efforts, I thought she wanted to hurt me. She is not a morning person." Annette shook her head, laughing. Margaret? A morning person? That was comical.

"That's alright," Annette whispered to him. "She's not an easy one to get up. I'll take care of it." Grateful that Annette was helping, he bowed in gratitude and began to take his leave. "Caspian," Annette called after him. "… Why are we getting up?"

Caspian chuckled. "You should know that. You're going to practice."

Annette felt her stomach drop. _Oh no._ She looked down at her thin arms. _I can't even pick up a frying pan. How am I going to pick up a sword? And worst of all, he's going to watch me._When Caspian left the room, Annette could only find comfort in smothering her face in the pillow and wishing she was back asleep.

~.~.~.~

Margaret and Annette made their way outside, both of them squinting in the sunshine. "Lovely day!" Reepicheep called out to them from the ground. Happily, he swung his sword around, showing off before the girls even got the chance to fail. "You're both ready, I'm assuming?"

Both of the girls exchanged nervous glances. Ready? Not in the slightest.

Caspian, Reepicheep, fauns, satyrs, dwarves, mice, wolves, Nikabrik, Trufflehunter, Glenstorm, and many other creatures stood before the girls. Without thinking, Margaret grasped Annette's shoulder to keep her balance. "Please tell me they're not _all_ coming with us."

"Everyone ready?" Caspian said to the crowd. Margaret's head dropped as she received her dreaded answer.

Annette tried to stay on the bright side. "Maybe they're not all going to watch us! Maybe some of them will split off and do other stuff. We can hope... at least." Caspian must have noticed the discomfort on the girls faces, because he started to laugh as he approached them.

"Do not worry," he comforted. "Not all of them will be coming with us." The girls breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, a lot of them will be, but certainly not all of them!" When the sick look returned to the girls' faces, Caspian began to laugh more. "It's all part of the training. There are many creatures in this world and you must learn the weaknesses and strengths of all of them, yes?" Gloomily, the girls nodded. They were going to get crushed. "I will help you. There should be no reason to worry."

"No worries," Margaret snickered. "I wish I could hear _that_ every day."

"Me too!" A loud and rugged voice rang out behind her. Margaret's eyes grew wide just by the sound of it. A moment later a large, booming creature made its way past her.

"That… That wasn't…" Margaret stuttered as her eyes remained fixated on the creature's back. "That's not really a…"

"A minotaur," Caspian finished for her. "Yes. He'll be helping us out today. He's a wonderful teacher, or at least I am told this. Speaking of which, I think it's about time we leave." He politely nodded at the girls before making his way towards the front of the crowd.

Annette grinned sheepishly. "If you don't believe a Minotaur's standing right in front of you, I don't think you'll ever believe _anything_." Margaret was still unable to comprehend what was happening. The only thing she knew was that she didn't care anymore. She liked this dream, whatever it was.

The group made their way through the woods. Normally the girls might have felt timid to enter unknown forests, but with such a large group, they felt comfortable and safe. Everything seemed to be in its rightful place. There were no Telmarines around and the trees were gently blowing in the wind. You could even see beautiful flowers sprouting up from the ground. Annette indulged herself in the serenity of it all.

Small conversation was flowing between creatures. Margaret wanted to talk to the Minotaur, just so she could hear his deep voice once again and lock it in her head forever. She was too afraid though. There was a nervous feeling in her stomach every time she looked at him. She just couldn't bring herself to do it.

"You look pale, kid!" A Scottish accent rang out to her. Slowly Margaret turned her head towards the ground where a small faun looked up at her with a curious expression. "You alright?"

"… Yes," She said slowly. "I'm quite alright, thank you."

The small faun had light blonde hair and dark red armor. His horns were curled in the most charming of fashions and she could tell he was younger than most of the other fauns. That was one creature she didn't see around too much. There were plenty of Centaurs, canines, and cats… but fauns? She could only recall a few. "My name is Kirian."

Margaret offered a slight grin. "I'm-"

"You're Margaret and she's Annette." He said with a chuckle. "We all know you."

Margaret's eyes adjusted to the Minotaur. "_All_of you?"

He nodded. Proudly, he smacked the arrows held in a pouch on his back. "Prince Caspian made sure of that. What kind of teachers would we be if we didn't know the names of our students?"

Annette and Margaret raised their brows. "Teacher?" Annette questioned. "What will you be teaching us? Archery?" Kirian nodded. Annette whispered under her breath to Margaret. "I don't think they have guns around here."

"I suppose it's not very civilized." Margaret whispered back.

They continued to make small talk with Kirian, learning about the past, fauns, his family, and vice versa. The chat was relaxing and informative, and the girls found themselves smiling and laughing plenty of times. Every once in a while a wolf might drop in a word or two, or even a dwarf, but that just made the girls happier to notice the coexistence of the place.

"England's not as civilized as some people might think." Margaret's memories drifted back to the train station. "Kids fight a lot. A lot of people are rude… And there are wars…" Margaret paused, biting her lip. She didn't like talking about the war. No part about it pleased her. Annette stayed silent too, a dark expression crossing her face.

"Wars?" Kirian's brows rose. "Looks like our two worlds are one in the same in that respect." Annette and Margaret looked to one another without argument. Very little was the same.

As everyone was lost in their own thoughts, the conversation was unexpectedly interrupted. "Wait!" Trufflehunter stopped the group from moving up ahead. Everyone froze in their spots.

Caspian's whisper was stern. "Hide."

Without hesitation, each critter managed to find a place to hide. Luckily the forest was luscious, so there were many trees, tall grasses, and rocks. In mere seconds, everyone was hidden except for Margaret and Annette. "What's going on?" Margaret whispered loudly. Kirian quickly grabbed their hands and pulled them behind a large rock.

"This is one thing you must learn," Kirian warned beneath his breath. "When your captain tells you to hide, you don't think. You just move. There is no reasoning; you just go!" All of it just happened so fast that there was little time to react. In fact, they had no idea as to what was even happening since their rock blocked everything out.

Before they could gather their thoughts, Caspian let out a cry. A second after that, metal hitting metal could be heard. Annette's eyes grew wide. "The Prince!" She whispered loudly, crawling upwards to peek over the rock.

"No!" Kirian shrieked, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her back down. "Under no circumstances do you come out from your spot unless ordered!"

Helplessly, the girls had to sit there and listen to grunts and shouts, clashes and bangs. Whoever Caspian was fighting was definitely a man. You could tell that by his voice. He appeared to be a good swordsman, too. Kirian's face twisted at the sound of the metal. "I know you want to jump out and help, ladies, but we must give the Prince a moment longer. We must not make him seem weak."

Before either of the girls could respond, a higher and more youthful voice answered for them. "No, stop!" It called out loudly. The fighting silenced. Annette and Margaret held their breaths. _That was a girl's voice,_Annette thought to herself. _That was definitely a little girl._

One by one the creatures began to come out from the trees. Kirian sighed heavily, shutting his eyes. "I think it's alright to come out now." He slowly made his way out from behind the rock. Even though it was alright, Margaret and Annette didn't want to move.

"Did that sound like a girl to you?" Margaret whispered. Annette nodded. "… What if it's another human? Some part of me is hesitant to look." Lacking in words, Annette nodded once more. There was a long pause before the girls decided they should get moving. "Maybe we should just go." Margaret said, grabbing Annette's hand and helping her up.

Slowly they turned around to look at the scene below them. Caspian stood with his arm out, sword at the ready.

Pointing at someone.

Pointing at a boy.

Margaret's heart began to pound against her chest. The boy's face was covered by his shaggy blonde hair, but he was certainly a human and most likely young. By the looks of him, he wasn't a Telmarine.

"Prince Caspian?" The boy said incredulously. Annette's ears perked up at the sound of his accent. _England!__The boy's from England!_She wanted to shout, but she caught sight of a young girl standing across from them. Her long red hair matched her orange dress. Her face was etched with worry; she was the one who shouted.

"Yes?" Caspian finally answered a menacing and powerful look on his face; the look of a Prince. "And who are you?" Both of the girls leaned forward in anticipation, curious to hear the answer.

"Peter!" Another high pitched voice called out from behind the bushes. Everyone's head snapped towards the noise. A tall, dark featured, beautiful girl made her way out into the crowd. She stood with her chin proudly out. There was no denying her glamour; Annette knew that straight away.

"Oh… My…" Margaret said rather loudly. Annette looked over at her friend with concern. Following her gaze, Annette caught sight Margaret's view. Standing down on the ground stood another man. He had dark features, just like the beautiful girl beside him. Annette cocked her head the side. He certainly had a nice face, but why was Margaret acting so... "You!" Margaret called out, pointing deploringly at the boy.

Annette suddenly realized. The boy. The boy with the dark hair. The boy who caught Margaret's eye. The one from the train station. That was him. That was _definitely_him.

"You're the..." Margaret began before Annette quickly clamped a hand over her friend's mouth and pulled her to the ground.

"Be quiet!" Annette whispered as they slammed onto the grass behind the rock. "Just… just don't say anything for a second and pretend that we're not here!" Margaret squirmed and kicked, but her friend kept her grip tight. "I'm trying to figure this entire thing out and I know that you're only going to make things more difficult!" After wrestling for a while, Margaret finally quit and stayed on the ground, unable to speak or move.

"High King Peter?" She heard Caspian say. Things were so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.

"I believe you called." She then heard Peter quickly respond. Annette scoffed. She recognized that voice instantly. It was the brother from the train station, the rude one who made them look like fools and thieves. Things were _certainly_ getting interesting.

There was a momentary pause before Caspian responded. "Well, yes, but… I thought you'd be older."

"Well if you'd like," Peter grumbled. "We can come back in a few years…" He began to walk away, but Caspian called out to him.

"No! No, that's alright. You're just… You're not exactly what I expected." Caspian said in return. Annette curiously peeked out from behind the rock. Whoever these kids were, they were clearly of importance. But it wasn't time for them to be known yet.

"Neither are you!" Another voice called out uncomfortably. Margaret's eyes grew wide. That voice was one she actually knew. It was the kid. What was his name again? She cursed herself for forgetting so soon.

Trufflehunter's wise words passed throughout the group. "A common enemy unites even the oldest of foes."

"We have anxiously awaited your return, my liege," Reepicheep said. Annette and Margaret barely breathed as the conversation continued on. "Our hearts and swords are at your service!" He proudly bowed before High King Peter.

"Oh, my gosh, he is so cute!" The young girl whispered to the other. Annette smiled. Something was different about the little girl, she could tell that just by looking at her. She recalled herself when she was that young. Her mind was always filled with fantasies and ideas. Margaret desperately stared up at her friend, wishing she could see what was happening.

"_Who said that_?" Reepicheep warned, pulling out his sword.

Annette began to burst out into giggles. Margaret was growing more furious by the second. Her cheeks were growing hot and her patience was being tested. Angrily, she began to trash about again, but Annette had the advantage and kept her down. "Just wait," She whispered. "Knowing you, you'll cause a commotion."

"Oh! Uh… Your Majesty!" Reepicheep said uncomfortably when he saw the speaker of the question mumble her apologies. _Your majesty?_ Annette wondered. _She must be a Queen!_ _And she's so young, too!_Wonderment and jealousy oozed from Annette. "With the greatest respect, I do believe… 'courageous,' 'courteous,' or 'chivalrous' might more befit a _knight_ of Narnia."

Peter smirked. "Well, at least we know some of you can handle a blade." The look across Caspian's face was daunting. Annette was almost afraid herself. Peter talked a bit too much, that was certain.

"Yes, indeed!" Reepicheep said, not noticing the insult. "And I have recently put it to good use securing weapons for _your_ army, sire."

Peter proudly smiled towards the mouse. "Good. Because we're going to need every sword we can get." Now he was talking to Caspian, whose expression did not look any more impressed than before.

"Well then." Caspian handed Peter back his sword. "You will probably be wanting _yours_ back." Annette grinned sheepishly. That was harsh, but the kid deserved it. He might be a King, the High King even, but he was certainly not impressive. Not to mention, Caspian was in line to be King too.

Margaret sighed, almost giving up. She didn't know anything that was going on, and she was just about to quit speaking forever at that point.

"It's that jerk from the train station," Annette finally whispered to her. "The one that accused you of stealing."

Margaret's eyes grew wide. Even worse than before, Margaret began to try and squirm her way out of her friend's grip. Obviously she had a bone to pick with this guy, and she wasn't going to let him get away. She continued to try and stand up as Annette held her down with one hand, the other on her mouth. "Margaret, calm down!" Annette shouted, despite herself. A small prick flicked across her hand. "Ouch!" Annette shrieked as her hand flew away from her friend's mouth. "You bit me! Who does that, Margaret?" Quickly, Annette grabbed Margaret by the shoulders, keeping her on the floor.

"Let me go!" Margaret shouted. "I really ought to tell that boy some things!"

The scene caused everything else to stop around them. When Margaret and Annette realized everyone was now watching _them_, they froze in their spots. "Sorry," Annette whispered to everyone, peeking out from above the rock. "My friend and I-"

Her hair sprouting out in multiple directions, Margaret also poked her head over the rock. "You!" She said, pointing to Peter. She glanced over at Edmund, narrowing her eyes. "I'll get to you in a moment, but first!" She stood up from behind the rock and began marching her way down towards the ground. Although she stood shorter, she appeared prouder in front of Peter who looked at her like she was insane.

"You're the girl from the station! The one that took his hat!" Peter gasped in disgust. "You're the last person on Earth I would have expected, or wanted, to see here." He grimaced when he looked at her. What happened to his King-like manners? Margaret knew she didn't look her best right now, but hearing him accuse her only made her forget about appearances and worry about his attitude.

"First of all, I did not take his hat," Margaret said calmly, shutting her eyes. If she didn't calm down now, she never would. "And second, I heard you from behind that rock, and if I didn't know you were rude already, I would label you as the rudest boy I've ever heard in my entire life." She raised her brows, amused by the surprised look on his face. "You might be a King, whoever you are, but need I remind you that you're_also_ talking to a future King." She politely gestured towards Caspian. "We're all working together, so I suggest you lose that attitude before things get a bit… unpleasant." Peter was taken aback. "Yes?" Margaret sighed. "No? Is any of this getting through your thick-"

Annette quickly rushed down the rocks and made her way over to Margaret. She grabbed her tightly by the shoulders, swiftly pulling her away. "I-I'm sorry," Annette laughed nervously. "She doesn't really know what she's saying. I've had a hand clamped over her mouth for a while now… She must not be used to all the air!" Annette laughed awkwardly. There was no good coming out of this situation.

Margaret was still glaring at Peter when someone else stepped in her line of vision. Her face dropped, her angered expression quickly gone. Her blue eyes blinked repeatedly as though she couldn't believe what she was looking at. "Margaret?" Edmund asked incredulously.

"You remember my name?"

"You remember her name, Ed?" Peter asked simultaneously.

_Edmund;_a light bulb went off in Margaret's head.

Edmund offered a small half-smile. "Of course I remember her name!" He said to his brother. "She was nice enough to give me my hat back. One she _didn't _steal, might I add." Margaret shut her mouth tightly. Why was he being so nice to her? This wasn't a situation she was used to. Unsure of what to do, she turned her back to them.

"Right, well…" She coughed into her fist. "We've all chatted long enough. Annette and I have some practice to do." She nervously looked over at Annette.

"Margaret's right. She and I have to practice our combat skills now. We'll just have to talk more about this later." Everyone stared at one another in the silence. "And this is all terribly confusing, so we definitely _will _talk about it later. Just for clarification."

Margaret nodded in agreement before rushing back over to Kirian, her face hot and embarrassed. "Want me to shoot you with an arrow?" Kirian laughed. "You look like you're going to fall over, dear."

Margaret nodded. "Please, just do it. I think I'd be better off with another arrow stuck in my chest."

Kirian patted her gently on the back before they began to walk towards the fighting grounds. "If you're having a hard time believing it now, you always will."


	9. Swords of Fury

**Hey guys, I'm glad you like our story! This is chapter nine, obviously, which means next is the big 1-0! Let me tell you, MistroStrings and I have something pretty exciting planned for you :D **

**Well… hopefully you'll think it's exciting. I think it is, and I know Mistrostrings does too. We'll just have to wait and see I guess ;) Oh! I also got the new Narnia soundtrack, and it's awesome. Even though Harry Gregson-Williams is amazing beyond belief.**

**Oh yes, this chapter is long. Although I'm sure at this point the remainder of our chapters will be about this length. Perhaps there will be some exceptions… WE'LL SEE!**

**Happy reading!**

**~MisticLight**

~.~.~.~.

"Annette," Caspian chuckled as he helped the fallen girl off of the ground. "I have told you hundreds of times to look at your opponent when you fight. _Not_ their sword."

It was finally the time for Margaret and Annette to learn how to battle. They had already been to their archery lesson, taught by Kirian and Susan as well, and had picked up the skill adequately enough. Both girls had been quite pleased with themselves, until they remembered part two of their training had yet to be accomplished.

"Right," Annette nodded, taking yet another mental note. "Look at opponent, not the sword. I think I've got it."

So far, Annette wasn't doing very well with the blade. Her main problem was Prince Caspian. She wasn't expecting him to be her opponent! Every time she swung at him, her eyes went right to her sword to make sure she hadn't drawn any blood, despite knowing the weapons were dull. Caspian was a great tutor though, always finding something positive to say and taking even the worst of failures lightly.

"That's what you said last time!" Peter shouted from the sidelines. Annette responded with a vengeful glare that sent shivers down the High King's spine. Margaret, who was quietly watching beside him, giggled as this 'mighty king' shook with fear. It didn't take long for Peter's fiery glare to focus itself on her.

Annette faced Caspian once more. "Again!" She snapped, her voice was dripping with hatred and annoyance. She was done with Peter and all his rude, boyish comments.

Caspian, however, didn't charge. Puzzled, Annette lifted her eyes only to find his face twisted in terror. Her eyes widened once she registered how she had just spoken. "Oh… sorry." She smiled sheepishly as her cheeks flushed a shade of red. "I didn't mean sound so offensive."

"I was startled, that's all." Caspian softly chuckled as he stood in his ready position. "Now, remember what I told you. Don't-"

"Don't look at the sword, look at the opponent." Annette overlapped before suddenly boiling with rage. She scowled back at Peter. "I've _got_ it."

With a smile, Caspian once again charged at Annette. She held her sword high and easily deflected him. He attempted another swing, but his blade caught on with hers. Both weapons were locked in place for several moments until Annette got an idea. She abruptly pushed her sword to the right, causing Caspian's blade to travel around in a circle and launch at its peak. As the weapon flew through the air, Annette pleasingly watched her accomplishment… until Caspian somehow managed to catch it. She gazed at him, fully amazed by what he'd done. Caspian simply smirked, he didn't really mind showing off every once in a while.

However, he didn't want her to completely lose focus on the duel, so he swung the sword at her head. Annette quickly ducked down before rolling to the side. She attempted to swipe at Caspian's feet as she did this, but her attack path wasn't even close her target. With a frustrated sigh, she pulled herself up and waited for another charge. Except this time when Caspian sprinted towards her, Annette was prepared.

She gracefully spun around him and tapped her sword on his back. She was surprised how her hands somehow knew what to do, but she was also anxious. Had she wounded Caspian? Annette briefly scanned her blade for any sign of blood. Then she remembered.

_Look up! _She commanded herself, and just in time as Caspian ran straight towards her. With a small yelp, she dropped down. He ran right pass her and Annette took no time in swiping her sword after him. Her blade caught behind Caspian's knee and he easily tumbled face first onto the soft green grass, losing his sword in the process. Immediately Annette scrambled to her feet to fetch the misplaced weapon. So, when Caspian finally flipped over, the only image he saw was Annette standing over him with _two _swords crossed over his neck.

Her face was stern until she realized what she'd just done. Slowly, Annette's face dropped a gaping shock. Caspian burst into laughter at her bewildered expression. Now embarrassed, she took a step back to allow for the chuckling Prince to stand. She shakily gave Caspian back his sword as she struggled to believe her victory.

"Well done, Annette." Caspian complimented as soon as he caught his breath.

"Annette, you were brilliant!" Margaret yelled as she jogged across the field.

Annette's face lit up as she grabbed hold of Margaret's shoulders. "I did it?" She asked. "I really did it?"

"Yes, Annette." Margaret assured. "You finally did something successful!" It ended up sounding harsher than it was, but Annette remained excited.

"Yes! I did it!" Annette nearly jumped with excitement. She loosened her grip on Margaret to face Caspian. "I actually did it!" In the spur of the moment, Annette wrapped her arms around Caspian. "Oh thank you, _thank_ _you_!"

Caspian's laughter was cut short from the unexpected embrace and Annette's excitement faded along with it. She quickly let go of him and looked at her feet, thankful when her brown hair fell to hide another blush. "Oh, sorry… again." Annette mumbled without lifting her head. She thrust the sword handle at Margaret "You're turn." With a wildly beating heart, Annette quickly left the field.

When Annette reached the sidelines, she was greeted by Edmund and a beaming Lucy. Peter stood wide eyed off to the side before walking over to her. Annette straightened up and nodded at him. "Where did _that_ come from?" He asked bitterly. Annette couldn't help but smile. She didn't know whether to tell him it was because of her infuriation with him.

"Oh, what does it matter?" Lucy chimed in excitedly. "It was amazing. Don't you think so, Edmund?" The little girl looked over her shoulder at Edmund, but her brother wasn't paying any attention to their conversation.

He briefly turned away from the battle field to look at Lucy. "Yeah," His eyes flash out to the field once more. "Sure."

Margaret was receiving her final instructions from a somewhat flushed Caspian. Just as he had told Annette earlier, the swords were harmless. Bruises would be received, but probably not any blood. Truthfully, Margaret was too worried about making a fool of herself rather than what the rules were at the moment.

Caspian walked across the field and stood in the starting position. "Ready?" He asked, his accent shining through. Margaret bit her lip, but slowly nodded her head. She knew she was going to regret this.

When she fell the first time, Margaret almost died of embarrassment. She was hoping that she'd somehow be some hidden master with the blade and have natural talent. So, when she fell for the tenth time, she knew that dream could easily be tossed away. What _really_ put Margaret down was Peter.

Peter was the most boorish, irritating person alive. He had been taunting Margaret ever since she first lifted the sword. In fact, Peter was being even more critical with her than he had been with Annette. Every mistake was called out. He making many _loud_ side comments with as many vicious attacks as he could. Despite Annette, Edmund, and Lucy's best efforts, Peter wouldn't stop being stubborn.

After the twenty-second fall, Margaret couldn't take any more of his attitude. She released an aggravated scream and threw her sword on the ground. Caspian took a cautious step back, his face a mix of terror and confusion while Margaret spun around to glower at Peter. "Enough!" Her shaky fingers pointed directly towards his face. He didn't even flinch. "What is your _problem_? If you spent less time being a thoughtless, ill-behaved boy and more on actually helping out around here, then perhaps we could actually learn something Aren't you supposed to be a King? You're just a school boy with no manners!"

Peter simply pushed her hand away. "You're doing everything all wrong." Margaret's hands clenched into fists which she had to hold at her side in order to not knock Peter in the nose. Caspian jogged over to stand between the heated argument.

"Peter, she's doing just fine. She's doing everything Caspian is telling her to do." Edmund attempted to pull his brother back a little.

"Perhaps it's the _teacher_ then." Peter snapped. He shot Caspian a brief glare before bringing it back to meet Margaret's furious blue eyes.

Annette had also had enough. "Peter, you wicked-"

"Peter!" Edmund quickly cut her off, thereby saving her from Peter's wrath. He'd already given up his attempt to move his brother away from Margaret and was now irritably crossing his arms over his chest. "Why don't you just _shut it_ and let Margaret get back to training? You're not helping anyone."

"Fine." Peter said coolly. He pulled his own sword out and switched it for Caspian's dull one. Before anyone could react, Peter had bumped Margaret out of the way as he walked onto the field. Upon not hearing any footsteps behind him, he looked back over his shoulder. "Well aren't you coming, Margaret?"

"Uh… Pete? What are you doing?" Edmund spoke the question everyone else was thinking.

"Isn't it obvious?" Peter sarcastically shrugged. "I'm going to teach her."

As soon as Peter uttered those words, multiple reactions took place. Annette and Caspian exchanged concerned, worried glances. Lucy took a sharp breath and bit her bottom lip, not liking this idea at all. Where was the motherly Susan when you needed her? Edmund's eyes widened as he looked to Margaret, a sickening feeling began to descend into his stomach. Margaret, however, wasn't even bothered. She stiffened her back, lifted her chin, and followed him onto the field.

Edmund immediately ran after her. "Margaret, this isn't a good idea. We just need to calm Peter down a little. Then you can go back to training with Caspian."

"No, Edmund. If he want to play, by all means, we will." She stopped to face Edmund, surprised when she saw the concern on his face. "I must prove myself to him. Otherwise, he may always act like a brute towards Annette and I."

Edmund attempted to smile, but his face quickly hardened. "Just be careful, alright? I doubt Peter will go easy on you." His eyes narrowed as he shot his brother a warning glance. "He never goes easy on anyone."

"Don't worry! I'll be fine." Margaret smiled as she gently touched Edmund's arm. He was about to speak when she quickly rushed onto the field.

She felt a bit strange after touching him. It made the fact that he was there real. Just thinking about how genuine his body felt made her sick to her stomach. What if she really wasn't dreaming? What jolted her back to reality was when she found herself on the ground for the _twenty-third_ time today. Peter stood over her, sword pointed at her face, laughing. She pushed it away as she hauled herself up from the ground. "What was that for?"

"You were charging at me, so I defended myself." He scoffed with a shrug.

"That wasn't… Why did you even…" Margaret huffed. Without warning, she charged Peter with a defining shriek.

The surprised Peter dodged her, but he wasn't quite quick enough. Margaret was able to whack her sword against his left arm. She was pleased when she noticed the pain Peter failed to hide, but then he erupted into a charge. Not wanting to stand there looking like a fool, she ran right back at him. They met in the middle, their swords blocking the other from any further attacks. Margaret was surprised with how quickly she pulled that off. She began to push harder, smiling when she saw the strained sweat building on Peter's forehead. He was actually falling back!

A transformation soon took place in the youthful King. His muscles swelled up, and those boyish eyes suddenly became majestic, the ruler in them peeking through. With a smug smile, Peter turned the tables on the mystified Margaret. Now _she _was the one being forced to the ground. Afraid of losing yet again, Margaret slid to the side just before collapsing to the floor. With the counterweight gone, Peter tumbled forward. Margaret victoriously smiled, until she realized he hadn't fallen to the ground. This little duel wasn't over yet.

With her sword raised, Margaret charged at her intimidating foe. She brought her blade down upon him, but to her horror, Peter simply stepped away. Her sword caught with the dirt and she flipped over onto her back, the once protruding weapon quickly following. Margaret's backbone writhed in pain from the impact as she struggled to catch her breath. It might have been painful, but she wasn't quite finished.

She latched onto the sword's handle and swung at Peter's feet. He jumped over it, so she tried again on the other side. This time when Peter leapt, he timed it so he'd land right on top of Margaret's weapon. The uncomfortable arm position caused her grip to loosen and allowed Peter to slide the sword far away from her grasp.

Margaret shut her eyes and let out a small groan between her gasps for breath. _Twenty-four… Twenty-four failures in one day._

When she popped her eyes back open, Peter stood over her with a sword pointed in her face. "Alright, alright. You win!" Margaret raised an eyebrow when the sword didn't budge. "Will you please remove your blade from my face?"

Peter complied before actually _smiling _at her; A real, genuine smile, not arrogant in any way. What surprised Margaret even more was when he stuck his hand out to help her up. Cautiously, she accepted the friendly gesture and was pulled to her feet.

"It seems I've underestimated you." Peter said. His hand was still outstretched even after she had let go. She quizzically looked from his open hand to the serious expression he wore upon his face. Why was he being so nice all of a sudden? His eyebrows rose. "Do you not know what a handshake is?" The sarcasm had returned to his voice, making Margaret smile at it familiarity.

"Thank you, Peter." She replied, shaking his hand so as not to miss out on this opportunity. Over Peter's shoulder, Margaret saw the others making their way across the field. She released Peter and walked right up to her bewildered friend.

"Margaret, I really don't know what to say…" Annette murmured. Margaret was instantly embarassed. Had she really failed that badly? Annette easily spotted her discomfort and began to panic. "No! That came out wrong! What I meant was… this is what I really wanted to say-"

"I think that what your friend means is that you did very well for someone fighting against the High King of Narnia." Caspian jumped in, covering for Annette.

She smiled up at the Prince. "Exactly! It was quite remarkable!"

"Thank you for your kind words," Margaret laughed sarcastically. She couldn't resist tossing a smirk towards Edmund. "I told you I'd be fine."

"I suppose you were right." He chuckled. "Good job, Margaret." She could tell by his words that he was pleased, and though she had failed many times today, it made her feel all the better.

"It's getting late." Peter voiced from behind as he glanced towards Caspian. "Didn't you say there was a fort of some sort?"

Caspian nodded. "Once we gather the Narnians together, I can take you there."

Lucy elatedly clasped her hands together. "Oh, let's do hurry then! I'd really like to see it!" Annette smiled at the little girl. Her enthusiasm was exactly what everyone had needed.

~.~.~.~.

"Fifteen years later, Lucy found a lamppost while we were hunting a white stag. A small memory of our world popped into her head and she led us back through the wardrobe. And that's how we accidentally left Narnia." Susan finished up the last bit of the Pevensies' previous trip to Narnia. Everyone was walking back to the How, and Lucy thought this would be the perfect opportunity to clear some things up. So Margaret and Annette listened as Edmund and Susan exchanged the tale. Way up at the front Caspian and Peter were talking about troops and fortifications, while directly behind them stood Lucy and the rest of their Narnian friends.

"Wait." Annette was trying very hard to grasp all of this, but something wasn't quite clicking. "So you were all Kings and Queens of Narnia some thirteen hundred years ago? The so called _Kings and Queens of Old_? But you're originally from England, like us?" Susan and Edmund nodded at each question. "And there were two sets of Kings and Queens? How does that even work?"

"Well, Peter is the High King." Edmund explained, jumping at the question. "I'm just a King while Susan and Lucy are simply Queens. I guess Peter _technically _has more authority over us, although we all made sure that never got to his head."

Margaret scoffed. "I don't think you succeeded in that." Edmund couldn't help but smile. She had a point.

Annette rubbed her temples in frustration. "Oh, this is all so-"

"Confusing?" Edmund smirked. "Yes, I'm certainly aware of that."

Susan's eyes scanned the forest, suddenly remembering a long-lost memory. "Once a King or Queen of Narnia, _always_ a King or Queen of Narnia."

Annette studied Susan for a moment. Her bright eyes glazed across the forest as her given title of _Queen Susan the Gentle _easily displayed itself. Something about the lovely eldest Pevensie girl made Annette's stomach churn. Her eyes shot towards Caspian before drifting down towards the strewn leaves as she noticed him watching her. She felt hopeless, but she didn't understand its presence.

"Annette?" Margaret's worried voice interrupted her thoughts. Without even realizing it, she had fallen behind. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing!" Annette replied a little too cheerful for Margaret's taste. She scrunched her nose.

"I know you, Annette, so don't play this game with me." Her voice was harsh, almost scolding. It was strange for Margaret to be acting like the older one; she was younger than Annette and wasn't used to giving advice. "You've suddenly fallen silent. Something must be bothering you."

Annette's nervous eyes darted around the forest, looking for a way to escape the conversation. She relaxed when she found one. "Oh look, the How!" Annette darted ahead, leaving a very perplexed Margaret behind her.

She stood beside an excited Lucy, who nearly bolted off towards the entrance. The How was just some rocky hill with a bunch of trees placed on it, so why was a little girl so excited with it? Granted, it was a beautiful sight. Plus she and Margaret _had _been thrilled upon first laying their eyes upon it. Either way, Annette was still marveled by Lucy's sheer happiness.

~.~.~.~.

The walk towards the real entrance of the How was a trek itself. Annette couldn't help but chuckle when she heard Margaret mumble. "Why couldn't we just practice here? Why'd we have to go so far into the woods?"

"It was so you could get use to unfamiliar surroundings." Caspian happily answered. The tired girl nodded her head; it made sense. She just hoped that she wouldn't have to battle at all while she was in that foreign land.

Two straight lines of Centaurs started to form along the border of the entrance. The sheer look of these magnificent creatures was enough to make the entire group stop. Each Centaur then produced a gleaming sword and reached it out above their heads. Once the sword tips connected, a tunnel of sorts formed to further decorate the How's gateway.

Without hesitation, the Kings and Queens of Old marched right into the How. Annette, Margaret, and Caspian uncomfortably hung back with Nikabrik, Trufflehunter, and Trumpkin. Out of all of them, Caspian's appeared the most hurt. Annette's face twisted when she spied his expression. She knew he wanted to be as grand of a King as the Pevensies had once been. However, the only thing Annette could do for the time being was place a supportive hand on his shoulder.

Caspian slowly glanced over at her smiling face. She was attempting to boost his spirits. However, his eyes remained fixated on the nobility before him. Her hand slowly dropped to her side, and she was left to quietly wonder if any of it even helped.

Margaret watched everything take place. And from her point of view, Annette had helped in even the smallest of ways.

~.~.~.~.

Caspian and the Pevensies had gone back to look at the cracked stone table, but Margaret and Annette had opted to stay behind. Reepicheep had already told Margaret and Annette about the significance of the How, and they felt as though the Pevensies needed a private moment with this historic landmark. So the two girls stood just outside, waiting for them to return. To pass the time, they looked at the cave paintings since they now knew what everything meant. Margaret gently stroked one of a faun wearing a red scarf under a lamp post. "I really do wish I had met this faun. There seem to be so few of them anymore."

Annette leaned her head back against the opposite wall, shutting her eyes. "Well, unless you plan on traveling back thirteen hundred years…"

"I suppose if you put it that way." Margaret's voice was barely audible as she slid her hand down the portrait.

Annette, realizing the negative effect of her words, snapped her eyes open and pushed off the wall. "Margaret, I'm sorry. I… I've just had a lot on my mind recently."

"_Tell_ me about it." Margaret replied, shaking her head. "Ever since this morning I've been-"

"Where are the Kings and Queens?" A faun abruptly shouted with a frightened face appearing even paler than his blonde hair. Although he was out of breath, he spoke awfully loud and it certainly startled the friends.

"They're just around the corner. Why? What's wrong?" Annette hastily asked. Margaret sensed the concern in her friend's voice.

Ignoring Annette, the faun pushed passed her. To his luck, the Pevensies had just appeared and sensed the urgency in the creature's face. "What's happened?" Peter firmly demanded.

"A scout!" The faun declared between breaths. "I saw a Telmarine scout, Sire."

Everyone looked to Caspian for clarification. The panic on his face clearly meant that nothing good was coming from this. The torch closest to him dropped an eerie shadow over his shaken face and his next few words didn't help. "They've crossed the river."


	10. Arrogance, And What Becomes Of It

**Special Surprise for chapter 10? MISTROSTRINGS AND MISTICLIGHT ARE BOTH HERE AND WE'RE GONNA TYPE IT TOGETHER! Like, we are legit in the same room writing this story. Pretty nifty, huh?**

**Anyhow, thanks for allowing us to reach the double digits with our chapters. AND everyone should go check out the community we've been placed in. It's called "The Love of a King" and it was created by bluelibellule13. The community is all about Peter/OC and Caspian/OC (There is some Edmund/OC stuff there too as long as it's tied in with either a Peter/OC or a Caspian/OC). So go check it out and thanks so much bluelibellule13!**

**~Mistrostrings and MisticLight**

~.~.~.~.

"It's only a matter of time." Peter stated while standing in the middle of the stone table room. Annette stood over by Glenstorm while Margaret sat with her new friend Asterius, the Minotaur. "Miraz's men and war machines are on their way." He scanned the room and made eye contact with all its members. He had to make sure they sensed his determination; they could not be scared. "That means those same men_aren't_ protecting his castle."

Margaret's uneasy eyes met Annette's, who bit her lip in dismay. Annette then found her eyes sliding over to Caspian's face, hoping his would appear more confident. Glenstorm caught onto her nerves and whispered into her ear. "Even the greatest warriors become frightened."

Annette smiled to herself as she tore her eyes away from the Prince. She could feel the uneasiness in her stomach slowly fading away. "I'll be fine." She whispered back to the Centaur. "… I hope."

Annette's attention was drawn back to the conversation once she heard Reepicheep's voice. "What do you propose we do, Your Majesty?"

Two of the young royal men began answering the mouse's question at the same time.

"We need to get ready for it." Peter replied.

"To start planning for…" Caspian also started.

The men looked at one another, afraid of losing any power in the room. Peter glowered at Caspian as if his opinion didn't matter. After all, _he_had been the High King of Narnia. Caspian was just a Prince of a crumbling, corrupt society.

It didn't take long for Caspian's eyes to lower in defeat. Margaret watched in dismay; her heart reached out towards him. She knew what it was like to be thrown into a world that you didn't understand. It was hard and she felt like a fool most of the time.

"Our only hope is to strike them before _they_ strike _us_." Peter continued on, not even allowing for Caspian to lend a voice.

"Well that's Crazy." Caspian added regardless. "No one has ever taken that castle."

"There's always a first time." Peter mockingly retorted, shrugging as if it were the most obvious of things.

Annette huffed and, with a roll of her eyes, walked forward. "But what if there's a _reason_ it hasn't been taken before?" She aggressively slammed her hands on the cracked stone table. "Why would we go there if _they_ have the advantage?"

"We'll have the element of surprise." Trumpkin countered both Annette and Caspian.

"Alright, but what else do we have?" She raised her hands in frustration. "_Nothing!_ It's best if we just wait here." Annette hadn't asked to be a part of this, and suddenly being thrown into the mix was messing with her head. She often kept her cool, but it was becoming more and more difficult.

"It's not like we know anything about military strategies, Annette." Margaret mumbled, though she did not wish to embarrass her friend. She just felt as though she should add her say into the debate.

"But, we have the advantage _here_!" Caspian looked across the faces of everyone, his gaze lingering on Annette. He was glad to have at least one person on his side.

"If we dig in, we could probably hold them off indefinitely." Susan said from behind. Caspian's bewildered face turned from Annette to Susan. It was difficult to keep track of who was on whose side.

"I, for one, feel safer underground." Trufflehunter expressed.

"Look." Peter declared at Caspian a little bitterly. "I appreciate what you've done here, but this isn't a fortress. It's a tomb."

Without a second of pause in between, the quiet and relaxed Edmund sat up a bit straighter, ready for his say in the argument. "Yes, and if they're smart the Telmarines will just wait and starve us out." The authority in his voice was not hidden. This was no longer a fight between Kings. Everyone had a say.

"We could collect nuts!" Pattertwig the squirrel proudly smiled in awe of his idea. Margaret couldn't help but laugh, although no one else took the animal seriously except Reepicheep, who stood up at the _'brilliant'_ idea.

"Yes!" He beamed. "And throw them at the Telmarines!" When no one showed any sign of acceptance, Reepicheep shot a warning look towards the squirrel. "Shut up!" He shouted before turning back to Peter. "I think you know where I stand, sire."

Annette sighed and buried her face within her hands. She was clearly frustrated. With all this arguing, nothing was getting accomplished. Not only that, but the majority of their meeting seemed to be in _favor _of an attack upon a well-fortified castle. Asking for a war was the last thing she wanted to happen, and yet it appeared as though that's what was coming. She needed a distraction to clear her mind, but the best she could do at the moment was disappointingly walk back to her spot next to Glenstorm.

"This is going to be disastrous." Margaret whispered beneath her breath. Despite her efforts to keep her voice down, it was heard.

Asterius let out a low laugh. "Only if we bring the squirrel along." He chuckled. Margaret tried to laugh back, but her fears were instantly returned. "Are you worried about fighting? You shouldn't be worried about that."

"What do you mean?" She questioned, looking up at him. "Why shouldn't I be afraid?"

Asterius turned his head downward, offering Margaret a soft smile. Despite his beastly look, this creature had nothing but tenderness behind those black eyes. He was a caring animal who wanted peace amongst his friends and family. Although he did not give Margaret an answer to her question, she didn't mind. She didn't need one. Somehow, she felt like she would have protection as long as he was around.

"If I get your troops in, can you handle the guards?" Peter re-captured everyone's attention as he looked towards the Centaur and Annette. Annette's eyes grew wide with uncertainty. "Not you," he said sternly to her. "No need to worry on your part." When he looked back at Glenstorm, his look was pleading and almost desperate. No one knew what would happen at the battle. How could they?

Annette looked up to the Centaur, her eyes offering a plea of their own to avoid this madness. Glenstorm seemed uncertain about what to do, but he knew an answer must be given. Everything was already set in stone, and a centaur never breaks his promise. "Or die trying, my liege."

"That's what I'm worried about." Lucy mumbled softly from her perch on the stone table.

"Me too," Annette agreed. Caspian looked at her, a sad expression crossing his face. She did not smile back. "What's the point in putting us all in danger?" Frozen for a moment, the two of them seemed to know what the other one was feeling. Peter was only making things worse, but who would tell a past King of Narnia what to do?

"Sorry?" Peter said bitterly towards his sister, ignoring Annette entirely.

Lucy couldn't help but find some hidden bliss in her brother's anger. She was collected when she replied. "You're all acting like there are only two options. Dying here, or dying there."

"I'm not sure you've really been listening, Lu…"

"No," She said firmly. "_You're_not listening." Peter's face dropped momentarily, bewildered by the sudden strength in her voice. She might be small, but she was still a Queen. "Or have you forgotten who _really_ defeated the White Witch, Peter?"

_White Witch?_Margaret pondered to herself for a moment. Stories that were told to her and Annette suddenly came flooding back into her mind. The White Witch. The Turkish delight. The bribes to be King. The endless winter. Carefully, she lifted her eyes away from the dusty floor and up to Edmund. His face, although lit by the candlelight, was pale and frozen.

"I'll talk to you later," Margaret whispered to Asterius. "There's someone else I have to speak to." Asterius followed her gaze and understood. Shuffling behind the crowd, Margaret slid her way over to the young King. "Hello." Her voice was gentle as she took a seat next to him on the ground.

Edmund snapped out of his daze as he set his eyes on her. "Hello?" He was clearly surprised by her sudden appearance. It didn't take him long to decipher why she was there. "I was looking pretty miserable, wasn't I?" Margaret nodded, hoping not to upset him. "It'd be nice to get a word in every once and a while. Then again, I wish we weren't having this conversation at all."

Margaret sighed. "I know how it feels," She whispered. "Genuinely." Peter and the others still looked miserable. Now that Aslan had been brought up, they were basically back at square one. She could feel Edmund's questioning eyes on her. _Who is this girl and why is she here?_ He was probably wondering. The only issue was, Margaret didn't even know herself.

Then the words no one wanted to hear came spilling into the stillness. "I think we've waited for Aslan long enough," Peter growled, resentment dripping off of every word. Annette lifted her eyes to the carving of Aslan, as if offering him apologies for Peter.

No one said anything. No one dared even to breathe. Peter gripped the handle of his sword firmly, biting his lip as though to restrain himself from lashing out once more. Lucy only looked at him, disappointment in her youthful eyes. The High King couldn't handle a look like that, and with obvious antipathy, he turned on his heels and walked out.

Once out of sight, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Some buried their faces in their hands while others rolled their eyes. All Annette could do was think. "I'm not trying to aggravate you," She began, capturing everyone's sudden attention. "It's just… My friend and I have no experience in any of this. We've never even _hit_ someone!"

"Says you…" Margaret scoffed.

"Alright fine, we've never _shot_someone with an arrow or slashed at them with a sword." Annette clarified with a side glance at Margaret. "If all of this is going on, will the two of us wait at the How? Will we go with you? I'm sorry to make this personal, but we really have no other choice." Annette and Margaret bitterly locked eyes, feeling utterly pathetic in their situation.

"I'm not so sure if you going with us _would_be the best idea," Susan said carefully. "Not defensively. I know you're getting to be a talented fighter, Annette." Margaret's cheeks burned with embarrassment. "And… Margaret would be good for support…" Margaret sighed and tried to look on the bright side. Being a Narnian cheerleader might be fun. "I'm just worried that this isn't going to be such a good idea overall."

Neither of the two girls spoke. That was the answer they had expected. "No," someone said firmly. "They're coming with us."

"Edmund-" Susan began, but he cut her off once more.

"They _should_ come with us." He said, glancing up at his sister. "Why not? I mean, what's the point of keeping them around if they're not going to get any experience? Even though it may not be the best idea, it's better than nothing. We can't hide them from battle forever and hope they're suddenly good in the final charge against the Telmarines." No one disagreed with that. Not even the girls. Lucy nodded excitedly. "As for you, Lu…" Edmund mumbled. "You're not an adult like you used to be. We don't want you to get all banged up before we go back home."

Lucy's faced dropped a bit, but she nodded. "I know…" She sighed. "I expected as much. Besides," She smiled. "I'm pretty good at moral support."

It was finished. Very little was needed to be decided expect for the actual battle plans. The soldiers discussed strategies with one another in private sectors. After some time, the girls ran to one another with clear fluster on their faces. "Annette…" Margaret's voice shook. "I know he wants me to go, but I-"

"Margaret?" Someone coughed behind her. She spun around, her wide eyes gazing upon the young King. "Do you mind if I speak with you for a moment?"

"No," Margaret said slowly. "That's... alright." She spun around and faced Annette. "Go speak with Caspian," She said softly so Edmund wouldn't hear. Annette's eyes grew wide in confusion. Could Margaret tell that she'd been feeling differently around him? "I meant just go ask him for your battle plans. Whatever did you _think_I meant?" She gave her friend a teasing wink before joining Edmund in the hallway.

Margaret's eyes skimmed the paintings and sketches lined across the walls, fascination rising in her eyes. Edmund smiled as he caught her looking at the sketches. "It's kind of freaky, isn't it?" He laughed, pointing to the drawing of himself. "It doesn't even look like me! Does it?"

Margaret placed her pointer finger on Edmund's crown. "Oh, I don't know…" She said softly, her eyes still glued on his sketch. "Your hair looks the same... and your eyes too." There was a momentary pause as the two looked over at one another. "I have to say," She said, offering a small smile. "You look splendid in coronation robes."

Edmund cracked a bemused grin, summing it up with a sweet laugh. "Oh, I _do now_, do I?" Margaret nodded, unable to resist the growing smile on her face as well. "Well I think…" He gently took her finger off of his sketch and placed it on Peter's. "... that_his_ coronation robe was much more flattering."

"Oh, no!" Margaret sighed. "They got it all wrong. Peter's robe is far too short for his height. Plus, the color of the wall makes it seem like it's the same color as his hair." She smirked, nudging Edmund a bit. "Luckily for you, you got the dark hair."

"Right." He ran his fingers messily through his hair. "Lucky me."

There was another momentary pause as Edmund stared at his drawing on the wall. He said nothing, but Margaret didn't mind. She looked over at him only to see that same sad look in his eyes from before. He seemed unafraid of who he was, but something seemed unsettling.

"Edmund," Margaret said softly. "Is this what you called me out here for?"

Instantly, Edmund snapped out of his thoughts. "No, sorry. It's not. I got lost in the moment, I suppose."

"You seem to be doing that quite frequently."

"I know," He sighed. "I called you out here to talk to you about your battle strategies." Margaret frowned, unsure of why she felt sudden disappointment. "Not very exciting, is it?" Edmund laughed, as though reading her mind. "Yours shouldn't be too complicated. I'm worried that having too many people break in might catch some of the guards' attentions. So, Peter, Caspian, Susan, Annette and I will all being doing that." Margaret's disappointment was hard to hide. All she could do was turn her head away for him not to notice. "Margaret, I'm sorry-"

"Don't be." Margaret reassured him. "I'm not good at that stuff anyway... as you could probably tell from earlier today."

"You'll still come with us." He stepped closer towards her. "I'll make sure that you do." Margaret tried to smile, but it was harder than before. "You'll just wait with the other soldiers outside the gate. Asterius already told me that he would be watching you along with some others."

It was at that moment that a sick feeling washed over Margaret; that feeling when the grade report comes in the mail, or when receiving a note from the office at school. It was the kind of feeling that never leads to good things. "Edmund…" She choked, stepping even closer to him. "I can't be with them… I can't even handle a sword properly against a mouse. How will I fight against soldiers who killed off most of Narnia's population?" Fear arose not only in her voice, but her face and body as well. She began to stumble for a moment, before leaning on the wall for support.

"Margaret," Edmund quickly helped her stand up. "You think I didn't take that into consideration? I won't let you fight if you don't want to. We would never do that." Embarrassed, Margaret's eyes refused to leave the floor. Edmund still gripped her arms. "That's why, when I signal the Narnians, we'll get you to fly up to a tower."

She looked up at him with hesitation. "What'll be at this tower?"

"Me," He said. "I'll be at the top waiting for you."

Somehow that wasn't comforting. Her head fell as she found it harder to look at him. "Edmund, can I be honest with you? I don't think I should do this. You saw me... Annette picked it up the second she started. I never got around to it."

"You were fighting my brother," Edmund encouraged. "That's not exactly an easy thing to do."

"I wanted to beat him." She said firmly. The two were close enough in the cramped hallway to make anyone feel uncomfortable. Yet, Edmund was the only one who seemed to notice as Margaret went off into a rampage. "It's not that I'm proud or that I'm lacking in self-motivation. I don't want to stand around and not help. I don't _want_ to go into battle without knowing how to properly hold a bow and arrow." She froze for a moment, thinking back over her words. "This seems crazy, but I'm actually starting to like it here."

Edmund's dark eyes carefully lifted up towards her blue ones. Margaret's headstrong nature suddenly retreated back into itself as their proximity and quietness made them both nervous. Neither of them moved away from the other though. "How'd you get here?" Edmund suddenly asked.

Margaret could instantly smell the trees and feel the wind on her face again. The memory of falling into clouds and through the forest was one that she would never forget. "A book," Margaret sighed. "A book let us in." There was a silence between the two of them as they drifted off into thought. "We haven't told that to anyone." He looked up at her quizzically. "No one bothered asking… If I had any say, I would have given a speech about how none of this battle mattered, because this is all just a dream…" Margaret gave a pathetic laugh as she stepped away from him, turning her back. "A dream that hopefully I'll wake up from…"

"Does that mean you're dreaming about me?"

Margaret turned around slowly. As she caught side of Edmund's wide grin, she couldn't help but crack a momentary smile. "Don't flatter yourself too much."

Meanwhile, back at the stone table, Annette had decided to take Margaret's advice and talk to Caspian. Her eyes quickly scanned the dimly lit room for him, only to become discouraged when she saw him speaking with Susan. Apparently it was something exciting because it didn't take long for Susan's melodic laugh to trickle into Annette's ears.

She admitted defeat. Closing her eyes, Annette laid back across the stone table with a sigh. She wasn't entirely sure if she should be doing this, considering how it was a historical landmark to the Narnians, but Lucy had been doing the same thing throughout the entire council. Surely everyone could forgive her just this once.

"Annette?" Someone muttered her name. She lifted her head off the table before quickly pushing herself into a sitting position when she realized who the voice belonged to.

"Caspian!" A strand of Annette's hair fell over her face from the sudden rush of movement. She blew the strand to the top of her head.

"Did I startle you?" Caspian chuckled.

"No…" She caught a glimpse of Susan standing behind him. "Just surprised me." The pale girl caught sight of Annette's curious eyes and quickly scampered off. Annette's brows wrinkled; did she do something wrong?

Caspian's eyes darted from Annette towards the empty space next to her. "May I?"

"Oh, yes. Of course!" Annette drew her legs close to her, already forgetting about Susan, as Caspian took his place beside her. He extended his feet and leaned back with arms resting against the cold table.

"Are you aware of what you'll be doing tomorrow?" He asked once he was as comfortable as one could get while lying on a rock.

Annette rested the side of her head on her arm. "Not particularity."

"You'll be flying in with Peter, Edmund, Susan, and I. Edmund will enter the castle first. As soon as the signal is given, the rest of us will follow."

"What about Margaret?" She quickly asked, concern evident within her voice. "You haven't mentioned her yet. Where will she be?"

Caspian offered her a half smile. "She'll be with the Narnian army and then with Edmund. She'll be safe, I promise.

Annette's face paled. Not only were they actually going through with this whole thing, but now she would be separated from her best friend. "They should have listened to you." She admitted, not wanting to lie to her new friend. "I don't like this idea."

"Me either…" Caspian replied. He stared up at the ceiling, his thoughts traveling to all sorts of lost places. Annette sympathetically looked to him until a new feeling arose within her. Her back was becoming rather stiff, and she knew she'd have to move in order to ease her discomfort. Eventually she dared herself to lie down upon the table, regardless of her and Caspian's not close proximity.

They both remained silent, lying shoulder to shoulder, lost in their own thoughts. That is until Caspian suddenly broke the silence. "Annette?"

Annette turned her head towards him only to find Caspian staring back at her. Their faces were closer than what Annette had originally thought, causing her to blush. Her cheeks became even brighter when Caspian continued to silently stare. It was almost as if he had gotten lost in his own thoughts again. Annette's heart started to quicken. "Yes, Caspian?" She forced herself to say, though she was perfectly fine with their silence.

Caspian's dark eyes slowly turned back to the dirt ceiling. "Thanks you for supporting me."

"Oh…" Annette said once she realized he had nothing more to say. She looked back up again as well. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't disappointed. "No problem."

More silence followed to which. Annette distracted her thoughts by listening to the footsteps of Narnians. One by one they were leaving the rom. It was only a matter of time before she and the Prince would be left alone together.

"No, wait." Caspian jolted up into a sitting position. Annette jumped at the abrupt noise and sat up as well. She curiously eyed him, her emerald eyes shining through in the firelight. "Annette, that is not what I meant."

She raised her brows. "Caspian, what are you talking about?"

"… I don't know." He regretfully sighed after a slight pause.

"You know," Annette said attempting to lighten his mood. "It'll be bad for the kingdom if their King doesn't know what to say half of the time."

Caspian smiled; Annette's goal had been achieved. "But that's what I'm talking about." He shut his eyes, trying to think of the right words to say. "Annette, you-"

"What _are_ you two doing?" The annoyed voice of Peter rang out. Both looked startled at his sudden appearance, even more so when they noticed the King proudly held the hilt of his sword. "We're all ready to go when we suddenly notice that two of our main battalions are missing."

"I am sorry, Peter." Caspian's once soft tone instantly switched to one of annoyance. "I was unaware of the time."

"Well, perhaps you should stop getting... _distracted_." Peter narrowed his eyes at Annette. Though he didn't frighten her, his glare was enough to make any grown man shudder. "Let's go."

Caspian helped Annette off the table. "Until next time." She said with a smile before following after Peter.

"Yes," She heard Caspian whisper behind her. "I will be looking forward to that."


	11. Margaret's Attack on the Castle

**Hey guys! MistroStrings writing this chapter. I hope you all liked our co-written last chapter. Basically, if you couldn't tell by the title this is the attack on Miraz's castle via Margaret's account (which is why I'm writing, because she's mine :3)****Thanks for understanding. :D**

**WE DON'T WRITE UNLESS WE GET REVIEWS, SO COMMENT, COMMENT, COMMENT! ^^ Share the Narnia love!**

**~MistroStrings**

~.~.~.~.~

The sun was setting as the groups lined up outside of Aslan's How. Margaret shifted uncomfortably in her armor, tugging at her pony tail. She wasn't the only one who looked distraught. Annette wasn't used to the gear either. Their uneasy eyes met for a moment before someone else caught their attention.

"Listen up," Peter said loudly, capturing everyone's focus. He paused, struggling to find the words. "I know that some of you don't… _agree_ with this decision, but it's been made." He looked over at Caspian, continuing to speak to him. "With this decision we have to protect one another and not lose sight of what we're fighting for."

A silence overcame the group. No one had a good feeling about this, but who was going to speak up and defy the High King? "For Narnia." Lucy replied in her small voice.

Peter said nothing. He simply walked over to his Griffin and silently stroked its wings.

"He's trying," Annette whispered, startling Margaret. "I can tell that he's really trying."

"Trying?" She scoffed. "He's only putting us in more danger. Everyone is just afraid to go against him. I don't know why-" Margaret froze mid-sentence as she looked down at her friend's hands. They were shaking, as was her entire body. Annette's eyes darted away from Margaret. It was clear that she was embarrassed by her fear. "Annette, are you-"

"Margaret," Someone else interrupted her. She looked over to see Kirian approaching her. "Are you ready?" Margaret merely stared at him. He should have known the answer to that. "Don't be nervous. We'll protect you."

She looked down at the faun, unable to feel protected by his height. "Yes," Margaret sighed. "I'm coming."

She slumped her way over to the other warriors, who were all calmly adjusting their armor and checking their weapons. _What did I do to be here?_She wondered to herself. _What makes them think I could ever be a good warrior? I'm just a schoolgirl from England._Pathetically, she looked around at the creatures before her. "I would think most of you would belong in a zoo." She made sure her voice was a whisper. "Truth be told, you're all much braver than I am."

Shutting her eyes tightly, she began to count to ten in her head. _If I open my eyes and I'm still here, then I just have to take it for what it is. I have to keep living this way. Ten…__Nine..._Time seemed to pass slowly as she watched the numbers go by in her head. Once she reached the end, her eyes slowly creaked open. Everything was the same. Just as she expected.

Over by the Griffins stood Edmund, and Margaret watched as he adjusted a sword on his waist. He was a hero and still in school. This life had chosen him, but she didn't feel as lucky with her new opportunity. She silently watched as Edmund flicked a flashlight on and off. Margaret hadn't realized she was staring until his eyes deadlocked on hers. His brows scrunched together for a moment before he peeled his eyes away. The response was far from friendly. A look of trepidation crossed his face and his head snapped back to her, displaying fear she had never seen bubbling inside of him.

_Is he frightened?_Margaret thought. _No. He's a King. He's done this before. How could a King be frightened?_

Edmund broke their gaze to pet his Griffin. Gently, the creature nuzzled against him. The care the animal had for him was noticeable. Margaret's eyes grew wide as she suddenly realized; _He's afraid for us!_ _He's afraid of what will happen to_us. _Could it be possible that he's afraid for me?_

Time was running short and Margaret knew she couldn't keep pondering over such ideas. Like a true warrior, she stood straight and locked eyes with her leader. "I'm ready." She told Kirian. "I'm ready to fight alongside of you." Without thinking, she leaned over with a bow. "I trust you with my life and hope I will not fail you." Kirian looked bewildered as he gently took her hand to help her back up.

"This isn't necessary. You bow to no one, especially not an old faun like me." He glanced over at the Pevensies. "Perhaps you can bow to them. They're a bit more experienced in all of this than we are."

A small smile crossed her face, but not without a hint of dread. "I hope so," Margaret whispered. "I certainly hope so."

~.~.~.~.~

The walk towards the castle was long and bitter as the wind was brushing against their faces. The moon was now shining brightly above them, lighting their path. Margaret watched the Griffins fly above with their long wings spreading out across the clouds. They were almost terrifying, but in a way that seemed somewhat beautiful. She smiled as she saw Annette soaring above her. "What bravery…" Margaret sighed in wonder. Asterius looked down at her in curiosity. "She was always the better one, standing up for everyone she cared about. She's wise, pretty…" There was a hint of sadness in her voice, but overall admiration. "It's like she's my older sister and I'm just the jealous younger one."

"I've noticed that you seem to rely on one another." The Minotaur responded. "Without you, she might not be here."

"I don't think that's true." Margaret sighed as they were about to enter the surrounding woods. "She was the one reading the book that sent us here. She would have noticed the book changing, with or without me."

A sly smile slid across his face. "That's not exactly what I meant."

Margaret pursed her lips. "What's it got to do with me, then?" Asterius merely chuckled without an answer. "I don't even know _why_ we're here anyway."

"Don't question it." Glenstorm said suddenly, his proud voice interrupting her thoughts. "Right now we need to focus at the situation at hand." Margaret sighed. Maybe she _was_ over thinking everything, and at the wrong time. "We have to worry about protecting one another." Glenstorm continued. There was momentary pause. "As I have been assigned to protect you."

Margaret glanced up at him, shocked. Her life was not worth his protection. His friends were much more redeemable and highly easier to take care of. Admittedly, she did feel a glimmer of warmth inside of her. With him, she knew she could be safe. "By whom?"

"A girl who admires you very much." The Centaur warmly smiled before slipping back to a more serious demeanor. "But now we must be quiet. We're approaching the edge of the woods."

His words echoed in Margaret's head. _A girl who admires you very much._ She casually lifted her eyes to the sky where the Griffins danced above them. She followed her friend with her eyes, a comfort growing inside of her. "Thank you, Annette."

~.~.~.~.~

The group in the woods watched as Edmund was taken to his position. They waited with bated breaths for the signal to come closer. "I can't believe this is happening," Margaret whispered to Kirian. Her body leaned on a nearby tree trunk in order to stop her shaking. "I don't want to see anyone get hurt." That was something everyone knew could not be prevented. He glanced up at her, but said nothing.

Suddenly, from a distance, a glowing white light flashed on and off. Margaret's stomach suddenly jumped inside of her and her throat went dry. She clamped a hand over her mouth, shutting her eyes tightly. She had to look away before she screamed.

"Margaret!" Kirian rushed to her side once he noticed her discomfort. "We must go to the gate, the signal has been given!" The other soldiers continued to walk forward as Kirian stayed behind.

Glenstorm approached them momentarily. "Kirian," he said warningly. He looked up at Margaret, noticing her ill look. A look of regret passed his face as though he knew this was wrong. But, sending an ill soldier into battle never had a good outcome. "Stay with her until she's better. Then come to the gate _immediately_."

"I can't," Margaret groaned. Kirian stood tensely beside her. "I can't see you get hurt. I'm going to… mess up, somehow. You should just leave me. I should go back…" Her eyes cracked open in desperation. Was it possible? She hadn't even thought of the idea! "_Is_ there a way? Can I go back home? Why didn't I think of that before…?"

"No. Not that I know of." He shook his head quickly. "Margaret, we will make sure nothing happens to you. You will not have to fight." Kirian glanced up at the tower. "Edmund will protect you, and so will we. If we didn't need you, you wouldn't be here right now."

Margaret stared into his eyes for a moment longer. The sincerity in his face and words was not a secret. He was not trying to convince her with moving words. After a minute or two of more silence, she grabbed her dagger tightly in her unsteady hands. "Alright." Her teeth were clenched as the words barely made their way out. "I will do it for you, Kirian." She placed her hand on his shoulder. "So don't you dare leave me."

He laughed, lightening the mood surrounding them. "I wasn't planning on it."

~.~.~.~.~

Once at the gate, the soldiers stood firmly. Things were taking longer than anticipated. Peter and Caspian weren't opening the gate as planned. The mood in the air was not a pleasant one, but no one spoke a word. They waited impatiently outside of the gate with swords at the ready.

Margaret looked back towards the forest where her Griffin waited. She breathed out into the cold night air, her breath turning into mist before her. She could feel the wind blowing on her bare cheeks. Though the nerves were there, and the anticipation, she felt at ease for a brief moment. The silence was soothing. It had been a while since she heard such quietness.

"It's been far too long," She heard Asterius whisper to Glenstorm. She turned her head away, pretending not to listen. "If something has-"

"We stick to the plan." Glenstorm said confidently. "Nothing changes unless the High King calls it off." Margaret wanted to laugh. Could it be possible for Peter to admit defeat? "Margaret," Glenstorm said with sudden urgency. "I think it's best if you go now. Go to King Edmund."

She glanced up at him with wide eyes. Everything had been calm and now she was being forced into gear. "Now?" She asked, breathlessly. The Centaur nodded. "A-Alright… Be safe please," She whispered to Kirian. "The others too."

"We will fight for the wellbeing of our future." He was the only one wearing a smile. "If that's not worth fighting for, I'm not sure what is. You can count on us, Miss Margaret. But promise you'll keep yourself safe."

"I promise." She nodded. "I will be looking out for you as well." She took one last look at the soldiers before turning her back on them and walking towards the woods. Her head shook back and forth as her mind tried to convince herself. "They will be fine," she mumbled. "Of course they will."

The Griffin met her halfway, cawing softly at her. Its soft face brushed against her arm as it noticed her discomfort. "Come on," she mumbled as she crawled onto his back. "Let's not keep them waiting."

~.~.~.~.~

Margaret clung to the Griffin's neck, its feathers brushing against her skin. She buried her face into him to keep warm, but also to stop herself from looking down. The height wasn't making her feel better. Snuggling against the Griffin almost seemed like her soft bed back home.

Almost.

However, the Griffin swooped down closer towards the tip of the tower and its large claws gripped the roof. It looked back at her with a caw. "Thank you," she whispered, hopping off. Her feet landed smoothly on the cold stones of the castle and she watched in silence as the bird flew away. It was only a matter of time before the clashing of swords and screams of suffering flooded to her ears.

Quickly, she rushed to enter the tower where Edmund was. When she approached the door, she pulled it open to poke her head inside. His dark hair greeted her from behind. He was safe. A brief smile crossed her face as she slid through and shut the door behind her. "Edmund, I'm-"

The boy spun around, his eyes wide from the sudden intruder. His sword clinked as he pulled it out and pointed it firmly in her face. Margaret suddenly lost the ability to talk with a sharp tip centimeters away from her nose. Upon realization, Edmund dropped his sword with a heavy sigh. Everything was fine.

That is, until both of them heard a clinking sound from below. "What was that?" Margaret whispered harshly. The two of them rushed to the tower window to glance down. Beneath them, the flashlight laid next to a Telmarine soldier, its silver surface glittering in the moonlight. Margaret slowly turned her head towards Edmund with eyes far from pleased.

"Don't give me that look," He mumbled. "You're the one that made me drop it." The soldier pulled away in shock as he shined the flashlight into his face. "Margaret." Edmund said firmly, taking her by the hand and pulling her off to the side. She looked down at the guard, who was still fumbling around with the machine. A moment passed by until Edmund dropped her hand.

Had he been holding it the whole time? She was too distracted to even notice. She looked up at Edmund, whose face was right in front of hers. Their bodies were dangerously close. Embarrassed and confused, she took a step back.

"I'm going to get it." He waited for a moment, as though he would say something else, but he merely shuffled out of the room and made his way out.

Margaret's breathing had been shaky all day, but it was worse right then. She pressed her back against the wall and shut her eyes to calm herself. Who was this guy? Why was he making her heart beat so fast? Did she even really know him? She placed her hand over her chest, hoping her flustered body would return back to normal. _Just one beat,_she begged it. _Just slow down for one beat._

Margaret thought back to England. She tried not to, but her mind drifted back as she waited for Edmund's directions. There was no use fighting it. She simply closed her eyes and let the memory come back to her…

_7th__grade Margaret sat in the back of the classroom, her journal open on her desk. She fiddled with her pencil, drawing a picture of a tree rather than writing down her homework. "And what exactly are you doing?" the teacher said, snatching the book from her desk. "Drawing. You're drawing in my class, are you?"_

_Margaret said nothing, her big blue eyes afraid and timid. She sunk back lower in her seat. "I was listening," She mumbled after a moment. "I promise."_

"_No, she wasn't!" A boy in front of her shouted. "She was drawing the whole time. She does that every day, Mrs. Barnes." His red eyes glared back at Margaret. "I've never once seen her doing what she's supposed to." Margaret wanted to shout that it wasn't true, that she really had been listening. She said nothing though. Her voice wasn't as strong. She looked at the boy in distress, her blue eyes swelling up with tears._

_She had always liked Michael Flick. She hoped every year before school started that this would be the year he would sit next to her, or talk to her, or even glance at her. And now he did, but he looked at her with hatred and disgust; the last look she wanted to get from him._

_After class, and after her scolding, she found Michael waiting outside for his mother. She approached him, tapping him on the back. He spun around, barely glancing at her before turning away again. "What do you want?"_

"_Why did you lie to her like that?" Margaret begged, her voice shaking once again._

"_Because," He spat. "You're weird. You're nothing but a weird girl and I now you know why no one ever talks to you." He still didn't face her. "You make everyone feel uncomfortable because you're nothing but a loner."_

_Margaret stood in disbelief. Was it because her parents weren't always around? Was it because she kept to herself since Annette was older? What was so bad about her? Large, rolling tears began to fall down her face. She turned away from him, running as far away as she could. That would be the last time she ever fell for a boy. She swore it to herself. She would never fall in love. Ever._

Margaret pushed the tears away from her face after the memory came flooding back. She wiped her wet hand against her armor, mumbling curses to herself. "He's just another boy." She tried to convince herself. "What's so special about him compared to the others?"

"I'm a little busy, Pete!" Edmund shouted from down below, a sense of struggle in his voice.

Margaret instantly snapped out of her thoughts, only to be greeted by the chiming of bells. She leaned over the side, gasping at the sight below her. Edmund was pressed against the edge of the tower with two swords up against his neck. He struggled to fight them off for a moment, but quickly rebounded, punching the Telmarine in the gut. Margaret stood with her eyes wide, unsure of what to do. Without thinking, she rushed to the door and went down to help Edmund.

_I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know what I'm doing!_ She repeated to herself as she scampered down the stairs.

Edmund continued to stab, dodge and duck as he fought against the soldier. Margaret hid and watched him until finally Edmund got the upper hand and knocked the Telmarine in the face with the butt of his sword. As the man fell, Edmund watched with heavy breaths.

"Here," Margaret said, rushing over and handing him the flashlight she just picked off the floor. "Signal them."

He snatched it from her quickly, fiddling with the button. Both of their faces dropped after it failed to turn on numerous times. He looked up at her, his eyes black and scared in the darkness. "Oh no." He then proceeded to repeatedly smack the flashlight, but nothing was working. "We're behind! We're _extremely_ far behind."

"Give that to me!" Margaret growled, snatching the machine from him and banging it firmly against her knee. Quickly, the light drabbled to life. "Hurry!" She whispered.

Not a moment passed before Edmund delivered the message. Finally, the signal for the charge had been given. The soldiers were coming. The battle would begin.

In moments, almost seconds, the Narnians poured in. Margaret leaned over the edge to hear Peter shout, "For Narnia!" as he lifted his sword high above his head and charged for the oncoming Telmarines. Then the sound came. At first it was sword against sword, man against man. Then there were screams coming from every which way and they never seemed to stop.

Margaret locked eyes on Annette, watching with an upset stomach as she approached a Telmarine. "Margaret." Edmund spun her away from her view. "Let's get going."

As Edmund led the way to their next spot, Margaret tried to block the sound of groaning from her ears. Her mind was in a daze. She was only following orders. She wasn't even making a difference and she knew it. Yet, she would continue to do as she was told until they were out of that place. If Edmund was in trouble, she would be the only one who could help him.

"Here," Edmund said, grabbing her and pulling her down behind a roof. "There are guards down there with arrows. They're aiming towards our men. I need to distract them." He paused, looking her up and down. "I think you should stay." She didn't disagree. "If we call for you, come down. It not, one of the Griffins will find you."

Margaret nodded as Edmund stood up to peek over the edge. He began to fling himself over, but without thinking, Margaret reached up and grabbed his ankle. Edmund stumbled for a moment, before falling backwards. "I'm so sorry!" Margaret held her face in embarrassment. "I just wanted to tell you to be careful. Please?" Her cheeks burned red as she hung her head to hide her eyes.

Edmund laughed as he stood back up. "That's alright," he chuckled. "Take care of yourself too, Margaret." He paused, glancing down at her. "And by that, I mean don't do anything irrational."

"Me?" Margaret laughed, though it was not filled with happiness. "I'm never irrational."

_Lies,_ Margaret mumbled to herself.

She watched Edmund fling himself over the edge and slide down the roof. He landed on top of a man, pushing him enough to fling him over the edge. Margaret's eyes grew wide as she watched him tumble, his final words becoming a long scream. She turned away before his body hit the ground. That was the last thing she wanted to see.

"Ed!" Margaret heard Peter yell from down below. Her head peeked out once again, displeased to find Edmund face to face with the archers whose arrows were all aimed at him. Before Margaret could even do anything to distract them, Edmund rushed into a room and slammed the door shut. Arrows quickly pursued after him. Thankfully they only managed hit in the doorway. It made Margaret sick to think of Edmund as target practice. But, then again, they_all_ were.

Margaret was finally alone. "What do I do?" Her vision caught sight of what was happening in the courtyard. She somehow managed to land her eyes on Annette, who only pushed her way around the crowd. _She can't kill anyone,_Margaret noticed. _She won't use her sword. She's too afraid._

However, Margaret spoke too soon. As a Telmarine approached Susan, Annette was the only one who seemed to notice. Margaret watched as her friend approached the man and drove her sword up through his stomach. He shriveled for a moment before falling to the ground in a cold daze. It didn't even take seconds, and suddenly his life was gone. Margaret's jaw dropped as she placed her shaking hands over her mouth. "Oh, what have we gotten ourselves into?"

Annette's hand suddenly lost grip of the sword as she let it fall to the ground in a daze. Her complexion was as pale as the moon shining upon it. Susan stood in an utter state of shock as well. Neither of the girls expected that.

A loud cry rang out from the other side of the castle. A large Satyr tumbled from a ledge, its body hitting roves and balconies as it fell to the floor. Margaret stared it down as it no longer moved. Tears started to form in their eyes, but they soon grew hot and angered. She quickly made her way down the ledge and over to the nearest staircase. Her feet carried her down to the courtyard, where she stood unprotected.

She had never seen anyone die before. There had been a war in her own country, but she never saw any of it. Now she was forced to. Things were worse here because these were her friends. These men were on _her_side, and she could do nothing about it but watch.

"No!" She heard someone shout by the gate. It was closing! She gasped as she saw Asterius instantly rush to help. His strong arms held it up before it sealed them all to their death. Her feet began to take off towards him, even though she knew she couldn't do anything.

"Margaret!" A firm voice shouted towards her. She turned around to see Peter with flaming eyes. "What are you doing? We need to get out of here! Now! Fall back!" He shouted to the crowd. "_Fall back_!"

Margaret could barely manage to get the words from her throat. "But Asterius!" She shouted as Peter swung his sword, hitting an oncoming Telmarine in the head. Margaret ignored it all, trying to plead with him. "He needs help! He can't hold that gate alone!"

"Which is _why_," Peter said firmly. "We have to get out of here!" He threateningly began to run towards the crowd, shouting towards Annette and Susan. "Get out of here now! Get back to the gate!"

Margaret stood in disbelief. Everyone around her was either dead or on the verge of it. She looked down around by her feet, the frozen shapes of her new friends cold and unmoving. She saw a leopard tumble down from above, its beautiful eyes now lifeless. Tears stung the edges of her own eyes. "Why…" She began to speak, before she felt someone tightly grip her hand. "Peter-"

"We have to leave." He took the reins of a horse Caspian had brought to him. He flung himself onto the animal before reaching down to take her hand. Margaret tore herself away in disgust. Her eyes scanned the area at all of the Narnians who were still fighting.

"Peter, if we leave, some of these men might not make it out in time!" Her voice was desperate. Peter could only look at her with hurt eyes. His mouth tried to speak, but there was just nothing he could say to make her feel better. She might have been voicing her concern, but she could see the pain wracking behind his wet eyes. She knew it. He knew it. They could do nothing. The plan had failed.

"I promised I'd protect them!" Her voice shook.

"Not now, Margaret." He gently took her hand in his. "You _need_ to come with us."

"And _they_ don't?"

With a tug, Peter managed to toss her onto the back of the horse. There was no more arguing. "Hold onto me." Peter softly commanded to her as depression flooded his voice. Her heart instantly softened towards him. Peter had to make the hardest decision out of everyone. She would only be making it worse if she defied him. Hesitantly, Margaret wrapped her arms around his waist and laced her fingers in the front. She had never held anyone so tightly. There was a slight pause before either of them spoke "I'm so sorry Margaret." His voice was barely audible. "I'm _so_ sorry."

Margaret was about to respond when something caught her attention. A short faun, his face cut up and bloody, stumbled backwards. His blonde hair was matted with a deep red. Blood. Before Margaret could even process what had happened, a Telmarine took his stance over the creature. "No..."

Peter followed her gaze, his eyes growing wide when he shared her vision. "Margaret-" He began.

"Kirian!" She screamed suddenly, unwrapping her arms from Peter. She haul herself off of the horse and began to run towards Kirian, but Peter quickly let go of the reins to stop her. "_No_!" She shouted, tears now flooding down her face. "Please, not him! Please let me get to him!" She sobbed as Peter grabbed her hands and pulled them around him once more, only this time into a tight hug. Peter watched as Kirian fell for the last time. He wasn't going to let Margaret see. She buried her face pathetically into his chest, her tears staining his suit. "I promised..." She choked. "I promised him..."

Peter said nothing. He took her back onto the horse before the gate closed. Margaret did not reject. She didn't have the energy. He slammed the reins firmly down onto the horse's neck. The horse let out a sad cry as it made its way to the gate. As they approached it, Margaret could see the struggle in Asterius's face. She looked up briefly at him, salty tears still pooling down her face. Her memories were hurt enough. She had to turn away, though she desperately wanted to give him a smile.

_Chunk._

The gates were sealed. Life and death was now separated. Peter stopped his horse when they were finally outside and Margaret let her eyes fixate on the scene before her.

The gate was closed, but not without half of their men trapped behind it. Peter's eyes watched the group he had left behind. Arrows flung at them like wasps. One Narnian after the other tumbled down to their doom. None of those creatures would ever wake up again. They had died because of a foolish plan. Some would say they died for their land, but Margaret couldn't believe it. Not at that moment. Not when she saw them _pleading_ for them to leave.

Peter's face was the most heartbroken out of everyone's. His eyes never once left his men. Margaret quietly wrapped her arms around him, tightly pressing her face into his back as they both let their tears fall. She spoke to Peter as she looked towards Asterius; cold and gone. "You did what you could," she muttered. "You gave it everything you had."

"Peter!" Caspian's sharp voice interrupted their thoughts. "The bridge!"

With one last whip of the reins, Margaret could feel the horse galloping at full speed. She could feel it jump over to the other side just in the nick of time. She kept her eyes shut. She could feel things. She didn't need to see them anymore.

She didn't want to open her eyes ever again.


	12. Annette's Attack on the Castle

**This portion of the attack on Miraz's castle is brought to you by MisticLight. You've already experienced Margaret's thoughts of this bloody invasion, and now it's time for Annette. The journey of these two friends are each different in their own interesting way.**

**So enjoy! Feel free to leave a review because it'll certainly brighten the day of these two authors. :D**

**~MisticLight**

~.~.~.~.

"Promise me you'll protect Margaret." Annette pleaded to Glenstorm as she finished braiding her hair.

The great Centaur crossed his arm over his chest and bowed his head. "With every fiber of my being."

She smiled her thanks, feeling a little more at ease knowing that her friend would have someone watching over her, before stepping out into the cool, dusky air. She easily located Margaret in the middle of the crowd and stood beside her. Their uneasy eyes briefly met. They would be separating soon, and neither of them was looking forward to that.

"Listen up!" Peter suddenly shouted above the crowd, capturing everyone's eyes. He paused, struggling to find the words. "I know that some of you don't… _agree_ with this decision, but it's been made." He specifically looked at Caspian, continuing to speak to him. "With this decision we have to protect one another and not lose sight of what we're fighting for."

A silence overcame the group. No one had a good feeling about this, but not one person wanted to defy the High King either. "For Narnia." Lucy finally said in her small voice.

Peter glanced over at her, but said nothing. A softer side of him unfolded before everyone, but he simply brushed it off and headed for his Griffin.

"He's trying," Annette whispered. She knew Peter wanted to prove he was still a good king, that he could still make decisions for the benefit of Narnia. "I can tell that he's really trying."

"Trying?" Margaret quickly scoffed. "He's only putting us in more danger. Everyone is just afraid to go against him. I don't know why-" She paused upon noticing Annette's hands shaking. In fact, her entire body was!

Annette had started to think ahead, about what was about to happen within the next few hours. Every one of her thoughts ended with one of her new friends dying, or worse, Margaret. Staring at her friend only made it worse, so Annette embarrassingly shifted her gaze away. She hoped Margaret would just ignore her, but Margaret couldn't. "Annette, are you-"

"Margaret," Kirian, the faun, called out to Margaret. Annette kept her eyes down and pretended not to notice. "Are you ready?" There was a pause; still she did raise her head. "Don't be nervous. We'll protect you."

"Yes," Margaret finally sighed. "I'm coming." Annette refused to look up until she was sure Margaret's back was turned. She played with the tail of her braid as she watched, praying this wouldn't be the last time she saw her. The thought sent a shudder through Annette. She didn't try to fight it.

"Annette?" The familiar voice of Caspian came from behind. She didn't even turn back to look at him. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Well," Her voice cracked and she unsuccessfully tried covering it up with a cough. "No, I-I'm fine." Caspian was suddenly by her side, staring at her still shaking hands. Annette quickly hid them behind her back. "Really."

She smiled, but could tell Caspian wasn't buying any of it. "Annette, if you do not wish to go, I wo-"

"No, Caspian." She held her hand up, stopping Caspian. Her eyes locked with his. "I'm going." Her mind was obviously set, and Caspian just had to accept that.

He nodded before gently grabbing her hand. "Be careful."

Annette's eyes darted across Caspian's face before settling on his brown eyes. "I will."

There was a break in conversation as the two gazed into the other's concern-filled eyes. At length, Caspian regretfully sighed and removed his eyes. "We better get ready. I believe it is time for us to go."

Annette nodded as she removed her hands and walked over to her assigned Griffin. She stroked its soft before looking back at Caspian. Their eyes locked one last time.

"This is it." She mumbled to the creature. "There's no going back."

~.~.~.~.

A small light began to blink from one of the castle's side towers. This was the signal. Annette took a shaky breath. _Here goes nothing_.

With a power stroke, her Griffin caught up with the others. She knew the raid was about to start, and it wasn't long before Caspian's Griffin dove down towards the castle. Peter quickly followed, with Susan and Trumpkin right behind. Annette and her Griffin rounded up the pack.

Even from her spot in the back Annette noticed the few guards dotted across the palace walls. Her eyes widened. _If I can see them, then they certainly will see us. What are we going to do?_

As if reading her thoughts, Caspian suddenly dropped from his Griffin while still holding on with one arm. With his free hand, he took his sword and slashed it across one of the Telmarine soldier's neck. "The first kill." Annette whispered, somehow fascinated by what just happened.

The Griffins continued to fly around towers as they searched for a proper place to land. Peter pointed out a spot with his sword, and there just so happened to be two guards patrolling the area. With each swoop of their mighty wings the group inched closer to them. As soon as they were in range, Susan released an arrow and killed one of the soldiers. Peter landed shortly after, killing the second one without any hesitation.

_Two kills. Three kills._ Annette thought, adding to her tally. Three kills, and all before her feet even touched the ground.

As gently as he could manage, Annette's Griffin dropped Annette's feet and placed her onto the castle. She stumbled forward but was able to catch herself before completely falling over. A hand was then draped around her shoulders. Annette looked over, her eyes meeting Caspian's. They exchanged a nod before he guided her to the others.

"Caspian!" Peter harshly whispered without looking back. His sword was still at the ready "What's the safest way in?"

"My Professor's room." Caspian instantly replied as he ran ahead. "Follow me!" He waved for everyone to follow. Susan and Peter exchanged quick glances before complying.

"I'd pull out my sword if I were you." Trumpkin mumbled beside Annette, making her jump. This was the first time the dwarf had spoken directly to her, and she didn't want to disappoint him. With slightly shaking hands, she took out her sword. The new blade glistened in the moonlight. Never had it taken a life, and Annette hoped it would remain so after the raid.

She then sprinted after Caspian and the two Pevensies with Trumpkin by her side. They said nothing throughout the entire stretch, but then they came to a corner tower. Caspian stopped in his tracks and motioned to the brick wall. "Get back!" He quietly ordered.

Everyone pressed themselves against the stone tower. Annette, who had somehow managed to be at the front, poked her head around the corner. Four guards walked along their path. The two with swords silently talked amongst themselves while the third and fourth guard silently walked along the edge of the castle. The last guard's crossbow lazily hung at his side. With a sigh, Annette sighed brought her head back. "Is there another way around?"

Her spirits fell when Caspian shook his head. "Not unless you plan on walking around the entire castle."

_That's what I would do_. She grumbled in her thoughts.

"How many are there?" Peter asked.

"Four." Annette informed everyone. "Three have swords. The Fourth, a crossbow."

"Trumpkin," Peter now looked down at the dwarf "You and Susan aim for the one with the crossbow. Caspian, Annette, and I will take care of the others."

Annette tightened the grip on her sword. "As in k-kill them?" She stuttered.

"Of course." Peter replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"No." She quickly shook her head back and forth. "N-No, I… I can't. I can't just… No. I simply can't-" Although she was hyperventilating, Peter's eyes drilled into her. His lips tightened and his jaw clenched with anger.

"Annette, you _have_ to." Susan jumped in before Peter could yell and so blow their cover. "Why else do you think you're here?"

"I don't know…" Annette looked down at her pure sword. Her pale face stared back at her.

Caspian placed a supporting hand on her shoulder and offered a soft smile. He understood what she was going through.

"Beards and Bedsteads! The more the lot of you complains, the more time we waste." Trumpkin grumbled. Annette silently thanked him for not blaming everything on her. "Susan, you can take the archer by yourself. I'll take a different one. Alright?" Peter was about to protest, but the Dwarf cut him off. "Good." Without waiting of anyone's permission, Trumpkin jumped out from behind the tower. Susan, Caspian, and Peter quickly followed.

Annette stayed where she was. If she wasn't willing to fight, then there was no use getting in the way. Instead, she looked to the forest where Margaret surely was. "You don't be like me," She whispered. "I never do anything right. You're the brave one in all this."

"Annette." Upon hearing her name, she spun around with a shaking sword at the ready.

"Oh! It's only you, Caspian." Annette said as she lowered her sword, relief spilling onto her words. "You've got to quit startling me like that."

"I will have to keep that in mind." Caspian laughed before turning became serious once more. "I showed the others where to go. They should have a rope lowered by the time we catch up." Grabbing Annette's wrist, he led her through the once guarded walkway.

_Four kills. Five, six… seven kills. _She counted each dead body, grimacing at the sixth kill. Unlike the other three, he was facing upwards, and still had blood rushing down his neck. _Peter must have killed you._

"It's just up ahead." Caspian said, snapping Annette's attention away from the guards. They rounded the corner and, sure enough, the eldest Pevensies and Trumpkin stood waiting. The Dwarf had fastened one of his small grappling hooks between two of the bricks, granting them axis to the castle.

"This will hold nicely, your majesty." Trumpkin said to Peter as he finished securing his work.

The High King only nodded before directing his attention back to his two companions. "Caspian, you climb down first. Your Professor will probably let us in if you do all the talking." The Prince nodded his agreement. "Good, I'll follow. Annette, you can go next. Followed by Susan then Trumpkin."

No one argued with this plan, so Caspian hopped over the edge with Peter going right after. Annette safely tucked away her weapon before sliding down the rope and entering the Professor's room. Right away she knew she liked this Professor.

Books and papers cluttered the entirety of the small bedroom. Even the bed had piles of books stacked on it! Curious as to what they contained, Annette approached the bed and flipped the page of the top book. There was a beautiful white castle sketched onto the paper. It seemed to be jutting out of the hill, though it may have just been part of the hill. Annette wasn't quite certain.

"Cair Paravel." She heard Susan mutter over her shoulder. "We used to live there… until it was destroyed." Annette sadly nodded, unable to remove her eyes from the drawing. She wished she could've seen its beauty in person.

"I have to find him." Annette peeled her eyes away from the book once she heard Caspian's anxious voice. When she turned, she noticed a pair of spectacles in his hand.

"You don't have time." Peter protested, sounding more apologetic than angry. "You need to get the gate open."

"You wouldn't even be here without him." Caspian quickly argued. "And neither would I." Annette's eyes drifted to the floor.

Peter, unsure of what to say, looked back at his sister. She sighed. "You, Annette, and I can deal with Miraz."

"And I can still get to the gate in time." Caspian added to better secure this new course.

"There's no need. I'll go to the gate with Trumpkin in case something comes up." Annette said, clearing out any other doubts. She made brief eye contact with Caspian before looking to Peter. "I'm sure you and Susan can handle Miraz on your own."

There was pause, but eventually Peter agreed. Caspian dashed down the steps before anything could be changed. Trumpkin nodded at Annette to follow. _Please let this work_ She thought, hoping nothing would go wrong with this small change of plans.

~.~.~.~.

Annette waited with Trumpkin outside the of the gate doors. Instead of having her sword drawn, Annette held her dagger. Trumpkin said he didn't think there would be very many guards inside, especially since Reepicheep and his small army of mice were there.

She impatiently tossed the small dagger back and forth in her hands, loving the small swirls on the handle but irritated with their wait. "What's taking them so long?" She hissed.

"Just give it some time." Trumpkin replied, slowly pushing on the door to see if it was still locked. "They _are_ only mice."

"Fine!" She huffed, crossing her arms. The Dwarf rolled his eyes. Annette envied Trumpkin's patience. He was already ready for action; all he needed was that door to unlock. "Trumpkin?"

"What is it _now_?" Trumpkin complained. Annette had never heard him speak without being annoyed, so she just took this as a normal behavior of his.

"Thanks." She smirked at him. Except his confused gaze showed he hadn't the slightest as to what Annette was talking about. She nervously scratched the hilt of the dagger. "You know, for taking care of the guards on the roof for me."

"We _were_ short on time, you know." He grumbled, turning back to face the door.

"Yes, I know… I've just never killed anyone, and I don't think I'll-" Annette started before the _click_ of the door interrupted her. Her heart began to pound; the door was unlocked.

Trumpkin readied himself in front of the door. "Stay here until I call for you." Annette nodded right as the second _click_ was heard. She hid behind a wall while Trumpkin burst through the door. One of his arrows could be heard as it flew from the bow, followed by a faint groan from the unfortunate soldier it penetrated.

"Ah!" Annette heard the small voice of Reepicheep. "We were expecting someone, you know, _taller_."

"You're one to talk." Trumpkin grumbled before signaling Annette to enter with a wave of his hand.

"Is that supposed to be irony?" Reepicheep said, putting his sword away. He looked up at Annette, his nose sniffing the air as he did so. "Still not what we were expecting, but you are taller."

She smiled down at the mouse. "Nice to see you too, Reep." With a twitch of his tail, Reepicheep spun around and scurried off to his fellow mice.

Annette surveyed the damage that had been done in this room. The closest dead guard was lying right by the stairs. _Eight kills._ When she looked up the stairs, she saw another unmoving guard lying flat on his stomach. Next to him was the torso of a third. _Nine… ten kills._

"Close the door, Annette." Trumpkin said in his monotone voice, bringing the girl back to their current task. She shivered before nodding and doing as she was told.

Making sure the castle wasn't alerted to the dead soldiers' groans; Annette stuck her head out the door. She heard the sound of footsteps. With her heart beating wildly, she stepped out into the hallway and readied her shaking dagger. For a brief fearful moment, Annette shut her eyes. When she opened them back up, she nearly fell back with relief.

"Caspian!" She smiled as she sheathed her dagger "Glad you could make it." Without even acknowledging her, the Prince continued to sprint down the hallway, past the gate room, and rounded the next corner. "Caspian?"

Panic took over Annette. Her breathing quickened and she felt as though her heart would pound right out of her chest. Something was wrong. Desperate and confused, she whipped her head back towards the gate room.

Trumpkin, having seen the whole thing, stood in the doorway. He took pity on Annette's pale, wide eyed expression. "Go ahead." He sighed.

"But the gate… what if it's too heavy?"

"Then I guess you wouldn't be much help then, would you?" He raised his quizzically brow. Annette eagerly nodded her thanks at the dwarf and sprinted after Caspian.

~.~.~.~.

She tried her best to keep up with Caspian, but he was just too fast for her. Eventually Annette found herself with an alarming decision: _Do I go left or right? _As she was muddling over this, she heard a very familiar, irritated voice from behind. "Annette, what are you _doing_?"

Turning around, she wasn't surprised to see an irritated Peter glaring at her. Susan stood silently next to him, her eyes studying Annette's uneasy face. "What's wrong?"

"Caspian, he-" She didn't have to say anymore. The siblings exchanged quick glances before sprinting down the right hallway. Annette darted after them, hoping they knew where they were going.

They soon paused in front of a doorway. Without any complaints from the two Pevensies, Annette wiggled herself between them to look through the crack in the doorway. Inside Caspian held his sword to another man's neck. _Miraz. _She glared at him through the doorway until she noticed another woman in the room silently reaching for a crossbow. Annette jolted forward to try and stop the woman, but Peter held her back.

"Peter let go!" She fought without any success. "We need to help him!"

"Not without a weapon handy you're not." He pushed Annette behind him and the siblings entered the room. With frantic hands she drew her dagger before sprinting in after them.

Miraz stared at Annette, his hands on his hips. "This used to be a _private_ room." He seemed not to care about the sword on his neck.

"What are you doing?" Peter said through gritted teeth. "You're supposed to be in the gatehouse _with_ Annette!" He nodded at her with a small glare.

"No!" Caspian said with such force that Annette almost dropped her dagger. "Tonight for once, I want the truth." Caspian, both his body and voice shaking with fury, advanced on his uncle. "_Did you kill my father?_"

The tension in the room made Annette's hands shake. She tightened her grip on the handle to try and stop them. Unfortunately, it helped very little.

"Now we get to it." Miraz whispered.

"You said your brother died in his sleep." The woman eyed her husband. Susan looked at Annette with such confusion that she knew they were thinking the same thing. _Why would Miraz lie to his wife?_

"That was more or less true." The false usurper admitted.

Annette took a shaky breath. "Caspian…"

She was covered up by Susan. "Caspian, this won't make things any better." Annette nodded in agreement. She had wanted to say something similar.

"We Telmarines would have _nothing_ had we not taken it." Miraz continued. "Your father knew that as well as anyone."

There was a pause as the two feuding relatives stared at one another. The woman on the bed kept her eyes trained on her husband while her hands lowered the crossbow. Annette began to breathe a little easier. "How could you?"

"For the same reason you will pull that trigger. _For our son."_ Miraz walked directly into Caspian's sword while Caspian, not wanting to hurt his uncle, began backing up. The woman lifted the crossbow and fired off a warning, as did Susan with her bow. The tension was picking up again.

"You need to make a choice, dear." Blood began dripping down Miraz's throat because of the pointed steel. Annette surveyed the room, particularly the crossbow. Things were not looking good. Instinctively, she inched her way closer to Caspian. "Do you want our child to be king? Or do you want him to be like _Caspian_ here?"

Miraz practically drove himself into the blade, causing the woman to shake with fear. Annette knew she would be pulling that trigger any second now, but why wasn't Caspian moving? She screamed warnings at him in her head, signaled with her eyes, moved even closer so _maybe_ he would understand, but nothing was working. "_Fatherless_!"

"No!" The woman cried with terror. Without even thinking, Annette dashed forward. She heard the click of the crossbow and a shout from Peter, but none of it mattered as she had successfully tackled Caspian to the ground.

_I saved him! He's not hurt, I saved him!_ She smile at her victory until a red liquid began to stain Caspian's now torn white shirt. Her smile faded. "Caspian! Are you alright?" Annette rapidly covered the wound with her hands. "I'm sorry! I wasn't quick enough! I should've said something, or… or acted-"

"No." Guilt overcame her as Caspian winced with clear difficulty. "You are fine." He removed her hand from his wound to replaced it with his own. Annette cringed when she saw Caspian's blood on her hands. She closed her eyes and wiped them on her clothes.

Outside, bells began to toll. The plan has failed.

"Come on!" Peter shouted forcing both Caspian and Annette to their feet. "We need to get out of here!"

~.~.~.~.

_Eleven kills, twelve kills_. Annette thought to herself as two more soldiers were slain by Peter's blade. The High King had forced the three of them to follow him to the courtyard, determined to go through with his plan. He was confident that since the troops were just outside they could still prevail. The other three, however, saw it differently

"Peter!" Susan screamed at her brother once he started to open the gate. "It's _too late_. We have to call it off while we can."

"No, I can still do this." Peter cried, determined as ever.

"No, you can't Peter." Annette reproached, trying to pry him away from the gate. "Now stop being imprudent and call it off! We _can't _do this."

"Yes we can!" He argued as he released himself from her grasp. "Now help me!"

Annette desperately searched the tower above her for Margaret, hoping her face would calm her down. However, she wasn't there. Disappointed, Annette heavily sighed and joined the others to help open the gate.

"Exactly _who_ are you doing this for, Peter?" Susan spat.

The Telmarines were approaching. Annette could hear them: the metal armor clinging together, the footsteps pounding upon the floor, the shouts of soldiers. She was becoming unnerved. Then the Narnians came galloping in with growls and cries of their own. Still she couldn't relax. She pathetically glanced at Caspian, her face drained of all its color. "Please help me." She whimpered despite her best efforts.

"I won't leave you." He promised as he stared into her terrorized eyes. She felt safe under his gaze, but knew she couldn't stay there. At some point she'd have to turn around. Taking a deep breath, Annette unsheathed her sword and spun to face the oncoming army.

"For Narnia!" Peter shouted as he led their charge. It didn't take him long to kill another soldier. _Thirteen._

Annette's eyes locked onto an approaching Telmarine. She blocked his attack and flung his sword high into the air. The Telmarine braced himself for the final blow, but she couldn't do it. She was frozen. The solder laughed when he realized her cowardice. He reached for a sword by his feet, but fell dead before his hand could even grasp it.

Confused, Annette looked up to find Kirian with a bloody sword in his hands. Her friend had saved her, and she promised to make up for it someday. Kirian gave her a soft wink and flashed a smile before charging onto his next victim.

"Fourteen." She whispered down at the fallen soldier.

Annette blocked every attacker that approached her and let nearby Narnians finish them off. This way she could help defend Narnia _without _having to kill anyone. She found some strength within this system of hers, and so forced away her thoughts of aching muscles to face more Telmarines. All the while she continued her count of the dead. _Twenty-seven, twenty –eight._

Every time Annette turned to fight another soldier, she found herself locking eyes with a nearby Caspian. He was keeping his promise, but this didn't make her nerves disappear. She was beginning to panic under all the pressure. This only made Caspian evermore watchful.

"Forty." Annette said as a tiger finished off yet another one of her kills. Suddenly, archers began forming along the castle walls. Her eyes scanned the tips of every crossbow pointing down at them, stopping only when she found one aimed directly at _her. _She silently pleaded with the archer to spare her and the Narnians.

As if her pleas had been answered, that archer suddenly fell from his post. _Forty-one…? What? _Her nose scrunched with confusion as she lifted her eyes to the spot the man was at.

"Edmund." She thankfully smiled at the boy. Annette's vision then jumped up to the rafters. Her smile only widened when she saw Margaret's blonde hair peeking out from behind. When she looked back at Edmund though, her smile fell. He may have taken out _one _archer, but now he was standing right next to a small group of them. "Edmund!" She screamed. Luckily there was also a door beside him that he quickly ducked into.

With a sigh of relief, Annette looked back around her. Susan was also gaping at the archers, which is probably why she hadn't notice the Telmarine approaching her. Annette looked around for anyone without an enemy. "Susan!" She shouted, hoping Susan would snap out of her daze and fend for herself. Terror filled Annette's veins when she realized her voice was unheard.

There was only one person who could save Susan now, and that was Annette. She took a deep breath and charged at the man. He had just raised his sword to bring down upon Susan when Annette blocked his assault. The Telmarine's eyes widened at this unexpected attacker, but then they narrowed again. Annette was his new target. He stepped back to swing his sword wildly at her. At the last second, Annette stooped down and plunged her blade right under the Telmarine's armor. The soldier looked down at the girl with shock, the light fading from his brown eyes.

Annette removed her sword from the man's stomach, and he shriveled to the ground in a dead heap. She felt cold as she stared at him. _Forty-two… I killed number forty-two._ Her sword fell from her hands; Annette didn't try to stop its decent to the ground. Time froze. All she could hear was the pounding of her own heart and the shaky breaths flowing through her chest. Hot tears threatened to fall from her wide eyes the longer she stared at the dead man. Had she _really_ killed him?

Dead Narnians crept into her vision. They were everywhere! Piles of them! Her heart rate picked up. _No… no… this can't be happening._ Annette buried her face within her hands._ I didn't kill… They can't all be…_ She took several deep breaths. _Things will be all better when you look back up. Everything will be just fine, you'll see._ But when her hands did drop, nothing was better. It would never be.

Annette heard someone call her name, but couldn't register who it was. She saw a Telmarine charging at her, but couldn't move her feet. Not even to duck away from his blow. The hilt of the man's sword knocked her across the head, forcing her to fall to the ground. A liquid soon spilled from a line of pain near her hairline. The menacing sword of the Telmarine then stared Annette in the face, and still she couldn't budge. She snapped her eyes closed, waiting for the end. But nothing happened.

Cracking an eye open, she saw Caspian holding off her former pursuer. He pushed the Telmarine away and looked back at her. "Annette, snap out of it!" Except she couldn't.

That's when Peter's orders came. "Fall back!" They were losing… badly. The gate was falling, but a Minotaur, Asterius, risked his life to catch it before it trapped them all in.

Caspian lifted Annette to her feet. "Come with me." She wanted to, she really did, but her feet wouldn't cooperate. Being short on time, Caspian grabbed her hand and dragged her into another room.

Inside were three horses, one of which had an elderly man sitting atop it. "I brought you Destrier." He said as he handed the reins of a black horse to Caspian.

The Prince swiftly climbed onto it before holding a hand down to Annette. "Annette, get on the horse." His accented voice softly demanded.

She just stared at his hand, unable to move. Her throat tightened as it tried to fight back tears. "Caspian, I… I killed him… The Telmarine! H-He was going to kill Susan and I… I just…" Her voice trailed off into a quiet whisper before it could turn into a sob.

Caspian wanted to comfort Annette, but there was just no time. "Annette… please." The pleading in his voice overpowered her distraught. She grasped Caspian's hand and he pulled her onto Destrier. He waited until Annette's hands were securely wrapped around his waist before galloping into the courtyard.

The archers still presented a threat, but all their eyes were trained on the main standing next to Miraz. His hand was raised, threatening to kill them all with a flick of his hand. Annette tightened her grip around Caspian and locked eyes with the man. He stared back, a hesitant expression crossing his face. Slowly, his hand started to lower and he mumbled something to Miraz. However, that was all Annette was able to see before Caspian turned his horse away from them.

Something whizzed by her ear seconds later. Arrows flew all around them with dangerous accuracy. Annette pressed her face onto Caspian's back as they neared the gate. There stood Asterius, the bravest Narnian of them all, risking his life to save as many creatures as he could. Tears welled up in Annette's eyes as they passed. This would be the last time she ever saw his kind face. "Thank you." She whispered, hoping he could hear her.

When they crossed the bridge, Annette dared herself to look back. Asterius had fallen, trapping far too many Narnians inside. They were all terrified but only a few of them called for aid. Although most appeared glad their Kings and Queens were safe, Annette saw the terror behind their eyes. Their faces started etching into her memory, and she had to look away. She shut her eyes so she wouldn't have to face their horror any longer. But as hard as she tried, Annette could not block out the Narnians' cries.

"Peter! The bridge!" Caspian's voice vibrated from his chest and throughout Annette's body. She heard horse hooves pounding across the bridge before leaping and safely running across the stone rocks. Only then did Caspian kick Destrier into a gallop.

Annette hugged herself closer to him, and, for the first time, allowed herself to cry.


	13. Sunrise

**Howdy y'all. So, it's MISTROSTRINGS writing this chapter, a simple and not too exciting chapter, but that's alright because it's got some pretty cool kids in it. So sit back, relax, get some popcorn, do a jig, whatever it is you do and enjoy.**

**Neither I nor my fellow author owns Narnia or any characters in this chapter besides Kirian, Margaret, and Annette. We've been failing to say that, heheheh. Sorry, Clive Staples Lewis (awful name, ol' chap, but we love you all the same).**

**~MistroStrings**

~.~.~.~.~.~

"There was never a lot of time spent between me and my father." A soft voice continued to whisper to Annette. Her dead beat eyes were now sheltered by their lids, hoping to get some rest. They stung from the after-burn of tears, but keeping them shut helped. She was not asleep. Caspian knew this. He tried speaking to her, but after no response came he knew he could only talk for comfort. "He was strong;" Caspian continued. "I should have been more like him earlier on. I feel like…" His voice drifted off into a heavy sigh. Annette could feel his arm lift up and scratch his head, trying to find the words. "You cannot change the past. The future is something you have to plan yourself. I wonder-" He was going to continue, but the beginning of what could have been a smile was appearing on Annette's face. She silenced him by tightening his grip on his waist. She felt him tense up for a moment, and then after what could have been minutes, he spoke. "I am sorry that I could not have been by your side the entire time."

"Don't be," She shut her eyes a bit tighter, fabricating the dreary wrinkles on her forehead. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here right now."

Caspian glanced over at Peter. His thoughts suddenly filled with curses. _More of us would be here if it weren't for him._ He started to think. That was until he saw how tired the High King looked. Peter seemed as though he were about to fall off his horse. Without stopping though, the horses slowly clomped on.

Caspian turned his head a bit to try and see Annette, but gave up when he thought be might be disturbing her. His eyes glanced down to her arms, tightly locked around his waist. Each of her pale hands was grabbing the other's elbow as though desperately holding on. He smirked, though he was glad Annette could not see the color rising to his cheeks. Despite what had happened at the castle, Caspian couldn't help but offer himself the tiniest of smiles.

A few feet behind them, a disheveled Peter sat silently on his horse. His hands did not hold the reigns. The horse knew where it was going just as it knew where it had been. Everyone was quiet now, as most of them had been since they left. Margaret's grip on Peter had loosened significantly after her tears calmed down. She still gripped the sides of his shirt as a comfort. He did not complain. Having someone near him might have been the best thing for the distraught boy. Margaret bit her lip every time she got the urge to want to talk to him. If his mood was bad when he talked normally, she didn't want to see what it would be like now of all times.

Her eyes slowly glanced around at the remainders. There weren't that many left, only a handful. She could already imagine the cries of the other creatures when they saw that their families and friends hadn't come back. And Lucy. Poor, sweet Lucy, who wanted nothing but happiness for this land she came to love so much. Margaret sighed heavily, resting her forehead on Peter's back.

"What…" He said suddenly, startling Margaret enough to sit up straight. "What are you sighing about?" The tone of his voice surprised her. It sounded tired as his words slurred together. His head turned slightly enough for her to notice the huge bags under his eyes. Without thinking she gasped, her brows rising in surprise. "Do I really look that awful?" Peter mumbled, redirecting his gaze back forward. "I'm not entirely surprised. You don't look exactly brilliant yourself."

"Peter," Margaret said quickly. "Peter… I wanted to-"

"To thank me?" He finished. Margaret nodded silently. "Don't thank me." His voice was still bitter. "You have nothing to thank me for."

"Peter, please, that's not true, I-" He snapped his head around once again, his eyes flaming. Margaret could have sworn she saw them flash red before she looked down at the ground in fear. "Alright," She whispered to herself. "I'll mention it another time." Peter was hard to talk to as it was. Admitting his own faults would be unbearable for him. He may never do it. He may never be happy, even if one was trying to give a compliment. Margaret blinked, thinking back to when she first saw him. Had he ever been happy? He hadn't been happy in London. He was miserable in the train station that day.

She frowned to himself. Why was that? Why did he struggle so much to find happiness? When she looked at his slumped body one more time, the only thing she could think of to do was once again wrap her arms around his waist, and lay her head upon his back. She bit her lip nervously as she did this, never being so close to a man before. She also didn't fancy Peter and was sure he didn't feel that way about her. But sometimes, it was good to know someone was there. By his silent nature, she could tell it hadn't been a bad decision.

Annette wasn't sure how long her eyes had been shut, but she finally cracked them open. The moonlight welcomed her as she slightly stretched her neck out to the sides. For a moment, she let go of her grip on Caspian to brush the hair from her eyes. Her frown became more prominent when she saw the number of people with them. It had hit her then more than before; there weren't that many survivors. She recognized the faces that were with them, but could only think of one who she knew was certainly left behind. _Asterius_. Her heart began to beat a bit harder as her memory flashed the image of him beneath the gate. Her head snapped around to look at Margaret, who was riding with Peter. "Caspian." Her voice was almost urgent. "Slow down. I need to speak with Margaret."

Without question, Caspian slowed his horse to a halt until they were walking side by side. "Hello." Margaret nodded when she saw the other two. She said nothing after that. Annette fumbled to try and find the words.

"Margaret, I wanted to ask you about-"

"Asterius?" She whispered, still refusing to look at them. She simply shook her head. Annette nodded. Just as she thought. She began to rummage through her mind as to who else she wasn't sure about. _Edmund_? No, he made it out. _Trumpkin_? Injured, but with the group.

"Kirian?" Annette whispered to herself, but loud enough for Margaret to hear. She prayed that at least he, of all people, made it out. He had helped her when the battle first started.

Slowly Margaret looked at her friend. A pool of tears was beginning to form at the bottom of her eyes, but she quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand. Margaret then turned her face away from Annette and laid her head back down on Peter. Annette knew her friend was torn by this, just as she herself was disheartened by the news. She wasn't offended that Margaret didn't want to talk. Sometimes, silence was the better option.

A slight breeze took her out of her thoughts. Her gaze was aimed towards the sky where a large Griffin flew overhead. Without stopping, it gently dropped Edmund to the ground, where he sprinted a bit to catch up to the girls. The Griffin gave out a long, sad cry before flying off in another direction. "Edmund," Annette said surprised, and rather loud, hoping Margaret would hear. Margaret didn't move an inch. "Why did you get dropped off?"

The horses were going slowly enough for Edmund to walk beside them at a comfortable pace. "I didn't want to keep him from seeing his family." He said simply. "I saw you walking beneath me, so I thought I would join you." His eyes glanced over at Margaret for a second, but when he noticed her head was turned away, he frowned. Annette simply shook her head.

"Kirian," Annette whispered. "Asterius, all of the others. It's not something one can handle so easily…" Annette tried to lighten the mood. "Especially when they _flinch_ at _flies_."

Edmund couldn't resist cracking a wide smile. His gaze once again turned towards Margaret, a surprising laugh escaping his lips. "Flies? She's afraid of _flies_?"

Margaret's ears perked up for a moment as she let go of Peter to snap her head towards the other three. "What are you talking about?" She said bitterly, anger dripping off from every word. She glared at Annette for a moment, wishing her eyes could flash red like Peter. "They fly around and take you by surprise when they're in your ear." She grumbled. "How can you _not_be startled by them?"

"One day," Edmund smirked. "I'm going to collect an entire jar of flies, just for you."

Margaret grimaced, lifting her lip up in disgust. "Just don't expect me to name them all."

Caspian smiled at the conversation. "Your talking at this hour must be from lack of sleep, or I fear you are all going mad." They all managed to laugh a bit, except for Peter who remained bitter and silent. They soon grew noiseless, remembering the situation they were in. The friends they had lost. The Telmarine victory. They were grateful for the laughter though, even if it only lasted for a short while.

Edmund walked alongside Caspian and Annette, his hand occasionally reaching out to stroke Destrier. Margaret would watch him, unafraid if he caught her looking. It was comforting to see him petting the horse. Somehow it made her feel like there was still some hope. As long as the creatures continued to care for one another, they could fight off the Telmarines.

Annette, on the other hand, was beginning to grow a bit tired. Her hair covered her weary eyes as she laid her head on Caspian's back. She wanted to talk to him, to have him talk to her, but the sun was rising and both of them were losing sleep. Her mind began to wander somewhere else… Somewhere warmer. Her hand gently touched the wound on the top of her head, a slight sting coming to her before she tumbled off into sleep.

"Annette…" Caspian whispered after a minute or two. She said nothing. Her mind was gone. "Annette?" He asked, slowly turning around to try and see her. When he saw her motionless face, a look of worry crossed over him. He glanced at the wound on her head, noticing the dried blood. "Annette, are you-" He tapped her hand lightly, but when he felt her squirm a bit, he was suddenly reassured. He was just glad her eyes were closed only because of sleep.

Margaret, on the other hand, could not find sleep if it had come to her front door. She turned her head away from Edmund, and kept it that way, nervous he would try to strike up a conversation. She didn't feel like talking anymore. She didn't feel like moving. She didn't really feel like… anything. Secretly however, she wondered what Edmund was thinking. Did he even care that she was faced away from him? Did he care that she was holding Peter, and tightly at that? Did he have a secret wish to comfort her? She stopped. Or was that _her_secret wish?

"All of this dew is making my feet cold." A slightly peeved voice called out. Her and Peter both turned their heads towards Edmund, who stood smirking. He paid no attention to them with his eyes. His only focused was on the wet, morning dew.

"Ed." Peter's voice was almost a hiss. Margaret loosened her grip on his shirt out of shock. "Wake up Annette. Tell her we're almost there." Caspian shot Peter a warning look. The feud was back on. Peter's anger was slowly coming out.

Edmund seemed surprised by the command, glancing at Caspian for reassurance. Caspian continued to lock eyes with Peter. "… Alright then." Edmund said hesitantly, nudging Annette until she finally stirred awake.

"My head…" She mumbled, touching her wound lightly with her fingertips.

"Don't touch it." Caspian warned with a bit of resentment in his voice. "Don't touch it until we get back to the How."

Margaret was starting to put the pieces together. Their traveling time was up and it was finally time to bear the truth to everyone. It was time for Peter to obviously point out his mistake. It was time for Caspian to declare he was right all along. No one said this aloud though. The substitute was the hostility between the men. _Things are going to get ugly._Margaret thought to herself.

"Everyone off their horses!" Peter commanded. Margaret jumped off instantly. She looked up at Peter as a worried expression crossed her face. He didn't even glance at her. _After all that help he gave me, he's back to his old, bitter self._

"I wish he wasn't like that," Margaret whispered to Annette, who had just recently hopped off her horse. Both of them watched as Peter walked briskly ahead of them. "I wish I knew what was wrong with him. I feel like no one can move him. No one can change him. He's just… uncaring."

"No, Margaret," Annette mumbled, her eyes also locked on Peter. "The problem is the opposite. He's _too_caring, and his love for these people is showing through his anger. He's putting all the blame on himself. He was once a fairy-tale King. He returned to a place where no one even recognizes him but on the pages of a book."

Margaret hung her head, sad she hadn't thought of that earlier. Images of her friends, the ones they had to leave behind at Miraz's castle, flashed through her mind. _Peter cared for them too. And he cared for me._She once again looked up at Peter, whose blonde head was much further up.

"I'm sorry." She mumbled beneath her breath. With the back of her hand, she wiped away one last tear that stained her face. "This is the last tear I will cry for my friends." She said with a smile. "Their lives should be celebrated. Not wept over."

"That's the spirit!" Annette said, offering her a soft hug.

"If this were a dream…" Margaret whispered, shutting her eyes as she held her friend. "It wouldn't hurt so much."

~.~.~.~.~

The horses had run ahead into the How. Everyone was positioned outside to wait for the returning soldiers. No one in the returning group spoke. Annette and Margaret had run up to the front of the group with Caspian and Peter, both of them anxious to get inside right away. They wanted to avoid any issues, but unfortunately that was not going to happen.

"What happened?" Lucy said, rushing up to them as fast as she could. The looks on the Narnians' faces asked the same question. Wives, daughters, sons... they all looked to see which friends had made it back. The result was pitiful and they could not hold their tears. No one asked them to.

"Ask _him_." Peter spat out, giving Caspian a disgusting look.

Annette's eyes grew wide with anger. She almost lashed out, but Susan's calm voice overtook hers. "Peter." Susan said firmly, just as offended.

Caspian's feet stopped in his tracks. "Me?" His deep voice shook with anger. "You could have called it off! There was still time!" It wasn't just Peter who was getting angry, but Caspian as well. Things weren't going so smoothly, as the girls had expected.

"No, there wasn't, thanks to you." Peter said harshly as he retraced his steps back to Caspian. "If you'd had kept to the plan, those soldiers might be alive right now."

"This isn't fair," Annette whispered to Margaret. "He's blaming him for every-"

"If you'd just stayed here like I suggested, they _definitely_would be!" Caspian shouted, his accusing finger pointing towards the ground in anger.

A look of disbelief crossed Peter's face. "You called _us,_remember?"

Caspian's cold and unforgiving eyes never left Peter's. Even though the boys were tired and bitter, their anger was real. Everything they had kept bottled in was coming out, and everyone was watching.

"My first mistake." Caspian said coldly.

"No." Peter growled. "Your first mistake was thinking you could lead these people." He began to walk away, as though the argument was finished and done with, but Caspian was not about to be trampled on. He was not finished.

"_Hey_!" He screamed. Peter turned around slowly, surprised by the sudden firmness. "I am _not_the one who abandoned Narnia!"

"You_invaded_ Narnia!" Peter shouted back, threateningly close to Caspian. "You have no more right to lead than Miraz does!" Furiously, Caspian shoved Peter's shoulder, pushing him out of the way as he stomped by. Annette took a step to rush after him, but Margaret held her back. "You, him, your father!" Peter shouted out, shocking everyone. That had done the trick. Annette forced herself free and stepped forward defiantly.

"Peter, you're crossing the line!" She shouted. The sudden ferocity made her wound ache and she reached for her head with a wince.

"_You_?" Peter scoffed, taking a threatening step closer towards the girls. He towered over them, but both of their irritations towards him at the moment made them feel just as upset. "What right do you have to even be _talking_? Why are you even here?" He shouted, startling both of the girls. They stayed silent, neither of them having an answer. "That's what I thought." He spat in disgust. "Narnia's better off without the lot of you!"

Without warning, Caspian let out a furious, rage filled cry and swung around to put his sword under Peter's neck. Peter was not so slow and quickly mocked him, their swords both threatening the other.

"Stop it!" Edmund shouted, his voice dripping with just as much rage. Everyone's attention turned to him and Glenstorm, who lowered an injured Trumpkin to the ground.

"Lucy…" Margaret whispered, turning to the little girl. "That's Lucy's friend."

Lucy's mouth quivered with threatening tears as she quickly rushed up to Trumpkin. Hastily, she pulled out a vial of red ooze, dropping a bit into his mouth. Everyone stayed silent for a moment, watching. "Is he going to be-" Annette began to ask before Trumpkin managed to cough back to life.

His eyes cracked open, looking around at the people above him. "What are you all standing around for?" The dwarf cursed. Everyone gave a sigh of relief. "Telmarines will be here soon enough." He was not used to getting help, let alone from a little girl. Lucy continued to smile as she stood up. One less life was lost. "Thank you," Trumpkin said to her. "My dear little friend."

Margaret couldn't help but smile, despite the hostility she was still feeling. She nudged Annette playfully, but her eyes were only focused on Caspian, who had just entered the How. "Should I go to him?" Annette murmured to her friend. "I don't think he wishes to speak to anyone…"

Margaret placed a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder. "Go to him soon, then. If he doesn't wish to speak to anyone, that means he probably _should_." Annette knew her friend was right. Caspian needed much more encouragement than he was getting.

"I will go after I wash up." Her fingers pulled away from her wound with blood on their tips. She walked away from Margaret, preparing herself to pass Peter. Thoughts and curses flew through her mind, but she only whispered one. "If he hadn't risked his life, you would not even be here… Take _that _into consideration."

Peter watched silently as she turned away from him. Margaret looked at the hurt expression on his face, wondering what Annette had whispered. She was in no mood to be nice to the King, despite the clear frustration written on his face. His words hurt. She may not know _why_ she was in Narnia, but she didn't want to be shunned for it.

"Don't mind him," Edmund said as he approached her. She jumped in surprise as though he had been reading her thoughts. "He doesn't mean everything he says. Even if he does, he's just ignorant." Edmund smirked. "Maybe it's a man thing."

"What, stupidity?" Margaret laughed. "Oh, yes. That's definitely a man thing."


	14. Sorcery

**Hey guys, this is MisticLight! I'm glad you all like our story, as is my fantastic co-writer. Thanks again for all the reviews. We now have 58 right now. Super exciting!**

**Anyway, enjoy the chapter. Review if you love us, no pressure or anything ;)**

**~MisticLight**

~.~.~.~.

"Annette, stop squirming." Margaret irritably cried. This was probably the sixth time she had to pull the wet cloth away from Annette's face. _Cleaning this wound is harder than I thought._ She grumbled to herself as she assessed the outcome of Annette's cut. There was a clump of dried blood where she had gotten injured, as well as a few streaks from where it ran down her face. _And I thought getting the pieces of dried blood matted into her hair was hard enough._

"I can't help it," Annette whined, slumping a little on the rock she was sitting upon. "It stings!" Not really listening to her, Margaret lifted her hand to bring the fabric back to Annette's forehead. Annette winced once the cold cloth contacted her wound. Her hands clenched and she pulled her head back, only making Margaret more frustrated. She lowered her eyes and spoke in a soft voice "Sorry."

Margaret closed her eyes to take a deep breath. "That's alright." She said smiling, but without opening her eyes. Annette began twisting her hair; she knew Margaret had little patience for stuff like this. Margaret sighed before finally opening her blue eyes "Really, it's fine. Just don't flinch this time, alright?"

Annette nodded, quickly closing her eyes so she wouldn't know when the cloth came. Her body twitched once the coolness of the rag touched her gash. She clasped her dress, afraid she'd move her head if she didn't and so unleash Margaret's wrath.

"What happened to her?" The frail, concerned voice of Lucy suddenly echoed off the walls. Annette peeked open an eye while Margaret turned around to look at the small girl. They both smiled at Lucy as she entered the room. Susan emerged through the door shortly after, her eyes falling once she saw Margaret drop a bloody cloth into a water basin.

"Well…" Margaret tilted her head, trying to remember if she saw what happened during the raid. Her memory instantly jumped to the moment when Annette slayed the Telmarine soldier. She shivered as she gazed down at her friend's hands, curious as to how they weren't still shaking after just killing someone. "I don't exactly know what happened."

Annette traced Margaret's gaze to her own hands. Nervously, she drew them to her heart and rested her chin upon them. Everyone was looking at her, waiting for an explain, but Annette just sat there. She didn't want to go back to last night. She didn't want to remember the death of her friends or her first kill. But most of all, she didn't want to look at those Telmarine's eyes; the eyes which faded from life to death in mere seconds. So Annette kept her mouth shut and stared at a little bug crawling along the floor.

"She was saving me." Susan muttered, drawing Lucy and Margaret's attention. Annette didn't move and continued to stare at the bug making its way across the room. "Well, the wound happened after, but…." Susan closed her eyes and sighed as she put the story together in her head. "I wasn't paying attention when the Telmarine charged at me. Annette was though. And she killed him, but became paralyzed afterwards. That's when another one came up and knocked her across the head." She looked to the stone wall next to her. "I… I was too shocked to do anything."

"Really?" Lucy looked back at Annette, who slowly nodded in response. A smile soon spread across the little girl's face. She crossed the room, almost squishing Annette's little bug friend. Annette reached out to grab it, but thought better of it. She would rather not look foolish today. "I guess that makes you a hero then!"

"I suppose…" Annette muttered before Lucy's toothy grin brought a smile to her face. She needed a smile. Happiness is the only way to get through the darkness. "But everyone was a hero that day." She looked over at Margaret, who seemed to be deep in thought. Annette knew she was doubting herself. "_Everyone_."

Upon hear Annette's last words, Margaret looked up from the floor. _Perhaps Annette's right… I just wish I could think of an incident where I acted heroic._ Not wanting Annette to suspect her thoughts, Margaret softly smiled. "Especially those who cannot be with us now." Annette sadly nodded before hugging her knees to her chest.

Lucy hopped onto the rock, her feet a little too short to touch the floor. She reached into a small leather pouch and pulled out a cordial. Her thumb traced across its smooth, glassy surface. Margaret eyed the liquid inside of the glass container, wondering what magic juice tasted like.

"Do you think if I had gone they would still be here?" Lucy murmured

Susan walked over to the her sister and placed a supportive hand on her shoulder. "Lu, it was too dangerous." Lucy sighed. She knew her sister was right, but she hated how she couldn't help those poor souls back at the castle.

"Thank you, Annette." Susan finally said to Annette with a smile.

"You would've done the same for me." She smiled back.

"But that's just it." Susan's face twisted with guilt. "When you saw that Telmarine coming towards me, you took charge and saved me. Once the roles were reversed… I didn't do anything. It's _my_ fault you have that wound on your head. I'm sorry I've caused you this pain."

Annette eyed Susan's expression. She couldn't help but pity all the fault she carried. "Susan, please don't blame yourself!" Annette tucked her chin between knees. "We were both pretty stunned after I killed that Telmarine. By the end of the day, we both needed help."

"_Everyone _needed help." Margaret added. She glanced over at Lucy, the small girl's expression becoming more and more restless as the conversation continued. When Lucy noticed Margaret staring at her, she quickly beamed at Margaret who couldn't help but smile back in return. This small girl knew how to brighten anyone's day, even in the darkest of times.

"Luckily Caspian was able to step in when I couldn't." Susan lightly remarked.

Annette's green eyes immediately shot over to Margaret, who giggled at their pleading expression. She knew Annette had been anxiously waiting for the wound to be cleansed so she could go speak with Caspian. Annette always tended to worry over friends who were upset.

With a roll of her eyes, Margaret nodded for Annette to go ahead.

A smile crossed Annette's face as she unfolded her legs and hopped off the rock. "Excuse me." She nodded at all three girls before scampering out of the room.

"I wonder where she's gone off to." Lucy pondered aloud.

"I don't know." Margaret shrugged with a smile. She reached down to pick a stray bug off the floor. Turning her back to the sisters, Margaret gently allowed the bug crawl off her fingers and onto the safety of the wall.

~.~.~.~.

Annette let her fingers drag across the stone walls as she made her way to the center of the How. She was hoping to find Caspian easier that way since he tended to pass time in the same places. _I hope he's holding up alright… _Annette thought as her eyebrows furrowed. _Peter had_ _hit him pretty hard when his father was brought up._

Besides her thoughts, the only sound Annette could hear heard were her own footsteps. The shadows from the torches seemed to dance to their beat upon the walls. They continued still even when the rhythm was interrupted by the sound of _more_ footsteps. Annette slowed her pace and straightened her back.

"Edmund!" She smiled when she saw her friend round the corner. However, her face quickly darkened when the next person came into view. "Peter." She curtly nodded.

"Annette." He returned.

Choosing to be oblivious to the interaction between Annette and his brother, Edmund peeked behind her, frowning when he noticed someone wasn't there. "Where's Margaret?"

"She's just down the hall." Annette pointed her thumb over her shoulder. "She's only just dismissed me after cleaning my wound." She continued, motioning towards her gash. Edmund nodded and started off down the hall, leaving Annette alone with Peter. She lifted her head higher to seem more important. "Do you know where Caspian is?"

"I think I saw him just outside the Stone Table room. You know, where those cave paintings are." Peter said with his spirits still visibly low.

Annette nodded her thanks and started to head towards the cave drawings. However, she was only able to take a few steps before remorse rushed over her. She sighed as she thought of something nice to say to Peter. It was a bit difficult since she was still irritated with him, but pity was more powering than anger at the moment.

"Peter," She spun on her heels to face the High King. "It may not seem like it at times, but I really do trust you." She was going to leave Peter with that when she realized he probably hadn't laughed since the battle; or even smiled, for that matter. "Well, you know, when you actually agree with me."

"Oh really?" He snorted as a smile made its way onto his face. "Well, I guess you're alright… you know, when you're not getting on my nerves." Annette, recognizing her words, smiled back at Peter. She rolled her eyes for effect, but failed to contain her giggles.

They exchanged smiles before Peter nodded his thanks and took off after Edmund. Annette, smiling to herself, walked off in the opposite direction. She still had one more person to cheer up.

~.~.~.~.

With her hands hugging her chest, Annette cautiously sauntered over to Caspian. She smirked as she leaned against the wall beside him, waiting for any form of conversation. Caspian didn't even turn his head to acknowledge her. The smile left her face.

Annette slowly rubbed her arms and studied Caspian. His face held no emotion as it gazed upon the drawings of the Pevensies. Her eyes then fell to the still messy scrape on his left arm. She knew the only reason Caspian even had that cut in the first place was because she hadn't been fast enough.

She cautiously moved her hands closer to his ripped sleeve, wanting to see how bad it was. How bad she had messed up. Caspian didn't flinch away, even when the cloth brushed against his wound in a flicker of pain.

Annette's shoulder's fell when she saw it. "I know you're upset, but you should at least get this cleaned up." She mumbled, causing Caspian to briefly remove his eyes from the drawings and onto her. _Think of something important to say._ She demanded herself, not knowing how long his attention would last. "To prevent infections and such…" Annette shut her eyes. _Infections? Brilliant thinking there…_

Caspian moved his arm away from her, causing a frown to find its way onto Annette's face. She took a few steps back and her arms clasped onto one other again. Caspian returned to staring at the paintings. "What do you think?"

Annette tilted her head, her eyebrows wrinkling with confusion. "Of infections? Well, they're not very pleasant and-"

"No!" Caspian looked back at her. "Of _them_." He focused on the picture of the Pevensies again.

"Oh." Annette's cheeks burned with embarrassment. Of course it's not infections. "I like them. They know what they're doing… for the most part." She walked next to Caspian and gazed up at the time period known as the Golden Age. "What about you?"

He sighed. "At first I accepted their leadership, but now I do not know."

Silence was the only response she could give him. She reached a hand up to brush across Susan's chair. Even though the Raid hadn't been their best idea, Annette knew there was something more to them. They had yet to prove themselves.

Caspian watched Annette's hand motions. In a way, it was peaceful. His thoughts remained otherwise though. Peter caused all this hurt to befall the camp. He was to blame for the dent in their army. Because of Peter, Caspian was losing the land his father had worked so hard to keep. He may not remember much of his father, but he knew enough to realize his father would not be proud.

"Are you so glad of that magic horn now, _boy_?" A menacing voice echoed off the walls, making Annette jump. She poked her eyes around Caspian to see who this haunting voice belonged to, not too thrilled when she saw Nikabrik standing at the corner. She hadn't exactly been too fond of the dwarf. "Your kings and queens have failed us. Can't exactly say your other two friends helped much either." Annette narrowed her eyes, threatening Nikabrik to continue. "Your army's half dead. And those that aren't will be soon enough."

Caspian glimpsed back at Annette. He knew she wasn't approving of the Dwarf. "What do you want? Congratulations?"

Nikabrik's eyes flashed over Annette before returning to Caspian. "You want your uncle's blood. So do _we_." Annette looked from Caspian to Nikabrik, not liking how Caspian seemed intrigued by this. "You want his throne? _We_ can get it for you."

"Who is this _'we'_ you're referring to?" Annette asked through narrowed eyes. Nikabrik smirked, but made no other response. Instead, he walked passed them and into the Stone Table room. Caspian followed the Dwarf, but Annette reached out and dragged him back. "Caspian, this doesn't feel right. We don't even know what he's up to."

"And we won't know unless we follow him." He whispered before starting off after Nikabrik again. Annette, tightly grasping his left arm, allowed herself to be pulled along through the twists of the tunnel.

Her heart pounding loudly in her ears the farther they walked. If she hadn't left her sword in the armory, Annette would have her weapon drawn by now. At least Caspian had his. She pressed herself closer to him when they entered the room.

"You tried one ancient power. _It failed_." Nikabrik spat once they reached the far side. "But there is a power greater still. One that kept even Aslan at bay for near a hundred years."

A low growling suddenly reverberated across the room. Annette's eyes widened. "Caspian… what was that?" Her fingertips dug into his arm. Nikabrik snickered and nodded towards the opened room.

Her eyes darted around, searching for the source of the frightening noise. She couldn't find _anything, _and this made her stomach flip. Caspian drew sword, but even that couldn't calm her. She knew there was danger out there, she just didn't know where. Once Caspian ran down the steps, Annette was taken with him.

"Who's there?" He called into the empty room while Annette remained frozen behind him.

"I am _hunger_." A voice rasped as a large figure emerged from the shadows. "I am _thirst_." A snout jutted out from underneath a black cloak. Annette felt her breathing start to slow down. She wanted to block out his ghostly voice, but was too frightened to move. "I can fast a hundred years… and not die." The figure crept closer towards them, so Caspian acted as a shield. He pushed Annette further behind him to stand between the approaching threat and her. But then a second figure emerged. "I can lie a hundred nights on the ice… and not freeze." The new creature used swaying movements as it walked, making Annette slightly more alarmed by it. "I can drink a river of blood… and not burst." Caspian started backing up; unsure of which creature held the most threat. He looked back at Nikabrik for reassurance, but the Dwarf only nodded. This didn't make Caspian feel any less anxious. "Show me… your enemies!"

The figure uncloaked itself, revealing a snarling Werewolf. Annette whimpered and twitched away from it while Caspian readjusted himself so he would be prepared if any of the two figures tried to attack. He pointed his sword more towards the Werewolf, although Annette wished he would point it at the second creature instead.

"What you hate, so will we." The second figure hissed as it took its hood off, proving to be a Hag of some sort. "No one _hates_ better than us."

Caspian skeptically eyed the creatures, lowering his sword in the process. Annette gave his hand a distressing squeeze. "Caspian, what are you doing?" She harshly whispered, anger starting to replace her fears. "Keep your guard up! There's something wrong here, can't you feel it?" He turned his head towards her while a watchful eye on the Hag. Taking a deep breath, Annette boldly walked around to face Caspian. She flinched when the Werewolf growled at her.

"Nikabrik said this was an ancient power that kept Aslan away for a hundred years. Surely you see that they cannot be trusted!" She continued before eyeing the Dwarf. Her voice lowered when she next spoke. "Not even Nikabrik… we are being betrayed." Caspian forcefully pushed Annette behind him once more. She clutched back onto his arm, this time in desperation rather than fear. "Caspian, please… don't give up on Aslan." Her voice was despairing. Caspian was the one who first mentioned Aslan to her. He couldn't possibly go against him.

Completely ignoring her pleas, Caspian spoke directly to the Hag. "And you can… _guarantee_ Miraz's death?"

"Caspian!" Annette spat, fuming with anger, and giving him a small shove.

"_And more._" The Hag bowed before Caspian. The Prince sheathed his sword entirely, to which the Hag heaved for breath while the werewolf pleasingly snarled.

Annette's hands clenched into tight fists. "They are only tempting you, Caspian. So quit acting like an _idiot_ and take your sword out! " She hissed before turning to face the smiling Nikabrik. He nodded at her then signaled the Hag.

"Let the circle be drawn." The Hag cried to the Werewolf.

Caspian stepped forward, but Annette rapidly snatched him back. She whispered low so only he would hear. "I'm getting Peter." No emotion played in her voice. She knew Peter was somewhat of a threat to him, and so hoped just Peter's name would make Caspian realize these three creatures were not on his side.

When Caspian gruffly pulled his arm out of her grasp to stand between the Hag and Werewolf, Annette knew all hope was lost. There was nothing she could do to make him listen. Tired of Caspian being foolish and scared out of her mind, Annette made her leave.

She snuck back up the stairs, carefully making her way to the exit. Nikabrik couldn't care less about her sudden absence, he already had his prey. Still, Annette didn't want to take any chances. She sprinted from pillar to pillar, watching between each stone as the Werewolf drew a circle around Caspian. The foreign chanting of the Hag in pounded in her head, making her sprint even faster. She needed to leave this room, needed to find help, and she had to do it _now_.

When Annette finally reached the stairs, she raced up as fast as her legs could carry her. Her feet were unable to keep up with her clouded mind and soon found herself falling upon the stairs. She desperately looked to the top before allowing herself one last peek behind her. There she witnessed the Hag slam a glass staff into the ground. Rather than breaking, this staff produced ice. The ice crawled up the sides of two tall boulders, forming an ice wall within the gap.

Annette followed the ice until it reached the top. Then she lowered her eyes to the wall itself, taken aback when she noticed a woman floating inside. Her eyes widened. _Not good!_

"P-Peter…" She cried as she scrambled the rest of the way up the stairs, still stunned by the ice woman. "Peter! Edmund! Margaret! … _Someone! _… Help!"

Annette may not know much about magic, but she understood enough to know that nothing _ever _good happens when dark magic is involved.


	15. And Sudden Vengence

**Hi! It's Mistro here. If you forgot, go back to Margaret's attack on the castle for the boy making fun of her flashback scene. It's mentioned in this chapter. Okay, thanks, bye!**

**~Mistro**

~.~.~.~.~.~

Margaret slowly dipped the bloody rag into a bin of cold water. Her hands tingled as they soaked, but she continued flipping the rag over and over again until the blood oozed out. She held it up to the candlelight for a moment. "Annette was bleeding horribly," She muttered, noticing the pink tinted rag. "I'm surprised she stayed awake for so long on our way back." Susan and Lucy, who were sitting across from her, glanced up at the cloth. Neither of them said anything. The silence implied the longing for their lost friends. "Right," Margaret sighed, sloshing the rag back in the water. "So much for that, then."

"Margaret?" A voice called from down the hallway. Her head snapped around to the stone entrance of the room, where Edmund's boots managed to find themselves. She quickly looked up at his face, one filled with shock at the sight of his sisters. "Oh," he said suddenly, looking awkwardly between the three girls. "I was just-"

Unspoken, Peter appeared behind him, brushing his way through. "Margaret," Peter said, approaching her. Margaret felt her face grow hot at Peter's confrontation. Was he going to embarrass her in front of everyone? Would he explain how she did nothing but cling to him and cry on the way back?

"Yes?" She wished she still had the rag to cling to.

"Tomorrow." Peter gripped the handle of his sword and displayed it for the others. He laid it across both of his hands and extended them out to her. "We're going to practice." Her mouth opened in slight surprise. She couldn't get herself to take the weapon from him. "Take the sword."

Margaret hesitantly followed his orders. She flipped it over in her hands, eyeing it with dread. "Peter, are you sure you really want to do this?" Peter raised a brow in amusement, but gave a small nod in reassurance. "Shouldn't I start off with something _small_?" Margaret choked. "Like a dagger?"

"You're not going to be using a dagger in combat," Peter snapped, folding his arms firmly across his chest. "This isn't school. You don't go from grade to grade. You take the sword and you use it." Margaret wanted to laugh at that statement. Hadn't she tried that already? "We're going to work on it. By the end of the day, with my teaching, you should be fine."

Lucy giggled a bit from the wall, where she sat crossed-legged. A bug skittered up her arm, causing her to let out a light shriek and pick it off. Feeling bad for the animal, she scooped it back up and replaced it on her arm. Everyone was somehow bewitched by the green bug. A silence filled the room for a moment before Margaret was snapped into reality by the growing cold of the sword against her hand. Not wanting to see it anymore, she darted her eyes to the floor and set it down by the water basin. "Thank you, Peter."

The sound of more boots entered everyone's ears. The stomps were not slow and steady like the boys, but quick and light. As they approached, everyone grew more nervous as they waited to see the owner. In an instant, the doorway went from being empty to suddenly filled by a wide-eyed Annette. She struggled to catch her breath, grabbing the edge of the doorway for support. "Peter! Edmund! You must come!" She cried, her tone startling everyone. "Something's wrong with Caspian!" She struggled to speak. Only a few words escaped her lips. "The Stone Table… A woman… In ice…"

Without a second thought, the boys sprinted down the hall. Before Peter ran, he snatched the sword from the stand Margaret had placed it upon. Susan and Lucy had both stood up as well, all of their minds spinning from confusion. "What's wrong with him? What's wrong with Caspian?" Margaret asked quickly, making her way to Annette.

"I think he's calling her back," Annette said. "Some woman who defeated Aslan. They say she can defeat Miraz. Caspian's desperate, he… he doesn't know…" She began to get lost in her own words. Her body started to shake as she slumped desperately against the wall for support.

Lucy's face grew pale. She turned towards her sister as her entire body tensed with fear. "The White Witch." The name echoed eerily throughout the room. Lucy looked back at the other girls with fear. "She killed off Narnians, turning them to stone, making them her slaves and her spies. She's the worst thing anyone could ever dream of!"

"Now is not the time to worry," Margaret said harshly. "We need to go and assist them. They can use all of the help they can get."

"We're coming with you." Susan said quickly with a nod. "Lucy, you go. I'll tell some other Narnians in case we need back up." She nodded firmly, and left the three girls up to their task.

~.~.~.~.~

Peter and Edmund had been running as fast as they could. Their arms jutted out before them with their swords at the ready. They both knew who the woman was. They just wondered how on Earth she managed to get there.

"Someone has betrayed us!" Peter shouted in rage as they continued running. "How else would she have gotten here?" He was yelling to his brother, but the anger was oozing from every word. If he hadn't been angry enough at Caspian, this was really going to set him off.

Edmund wanted to respond, but he couldn't find the words. Was it really her? Was it really the woman who had nearly destroyed his family? He wanted to be brave. He wanted to be strong, but he didn't know how it would be possible. Edmund felt weak at the thought of her. Seeing her again would tear him apart.

"You're Majesties?" Trumpkin suddenly said, jumping out in front of them. "What's going-"

"Move!" Peter shouted, slashing his sword through the air in order for Trumpkin to get out of the way. "Don't just stand there! Come with us!" There was no time to explain, but Trumpkin pulled out a knife of his own and followed his Kings regardless. He would find out soon enough.

~.~.~.~.~

The girls rushed towards the room with Lucy the only one carrying a weapon. None of them spoke. They were afraid of what they would find. As they ran down the dirt-brown hallways, lined with majestic paintings of old Narnia, Annette couldn't help but feel unsettled. The paintings on the walls didn't fit in with everything around them. She wondered if there ever really _was_ a Narnia like that. A Narnia with thousands of fauns, dwarves, and elves. A Narnia that her friends had ruled.

Margaret glanced over at Annette whose face was tight with concern. She knew Annette would be upset with Caspian once this was all over. Annette might not realize it herself, but Margaret saw it coming. She didn't want for that to be so, but Caspian did almost turn them over to the worst. She just hoped Peter and Edmund had gotten there fast enough.

The sound of screaming and swords clashing up against one another filled everyone's ears as they approached the hallway nearby. No one stopped. They reached the doorway, too many things going on at once to focus. Peter was frantically trying to reach for a sword. A bird-like creature was crowing and hissing, trying to fight its way around. The traitor, Nikabrik, was also trying to go after Peter until Trumpkin jumped in. Across the room, Edmund flew through the air and managed to slice his sword across a werewolf's leg, causing him to let out a long, distressing howl. Yet, in the middle of all the chaos, stood a tall and beautiful woman trapped in ice. Her white hand was outstretched to Caspian, her cold eyes pleading and mouth open in desperation.

"Caspian!" Annette screamed, rushing into the scene without any warning. Margaret instantly darted after her.

"No!" Margaret tried pull back Annette, but it was too late. The bird creature already spotted them. She spread her beak into a snarl, shouting things at them in a voice and language they could not understand. Both of the girls found themselves immobile with fear.

Peter suddenly made his way in between them, fighting the creature back. "Get out of here!"

Lucy had dashed into the picture as well, trying to keep Nikabrik away from Trumpkin. She had a dagger to his throat, getting ready to seemingly slice it, but he twisted her arm around without her standing a chance. Her screams of pain reverberated above the rest of the noise.

"Lucy!" Annette shouted after her. Nikabrik slowly approached the young Queen with her own dagger clamped tightly in his hand. His eyes were no longer his. They were dark and taunting. He was really considering it. He was considering killing her!

Annette spotted another knife a few feet away. She saw Trumpkin frantically looking around for something to fight Nikabrik off. "Trumpkin!" She shouted, grabbing it and tossing it towards him. She knew it was dangerous to be throwing knives, as she learned in elementary school, but now was not the time for smarts. He nearly dropped it, but caught it just in time to stab it directly in Nikabrik's back. The dark dwarf tensed up, his hand dropping the dagger as it clattered to the floor. Trumpkin helped the trembling Lucy back to her feet.

Annette sighed heavily. It wasn't over for her. There was still someone else she had to save.

Margaret turned out not being very useful, but she couldn't help it. She was frozen as she watched Edmund rush onto a rock, spin around with his sword above his head, and slice the terrible werewolf in half. Her eyes watched the creature tumble lifelessly to the floor. Edmund must have noticed her, because in seconds he was at her side. "Margaret." He said breathlessly, unable to say more. His breathing came out in short spurts as he hauled over, his hands weakly on his knees.

Margaret could not tear her eyes away from the werewolf. "You're not finished yet," Margaret mumbled somewhat despondently. "You still have _her_. The woman in the ice."

Edmund's head lifted to her face. For the first time he saw something different in her eyes. It wasn't stubbornness or regret. It wasn't tears for the friends she had lost, or anger towards his brother. It was overpowering sadness. Something lingered in her eyes that Edmund wanted to ask about. But he knew she was right. He wasn't finished just yet.

"Come with me."

Margaret seemed to snap out of whatever phase she was in as she scoffed at him in disbelief. "What on Earth do you need me for?" She whispered. "I'm only going to get in the way." Her eyes glanced back towards the dead traitors. Her stomach twisted into itself, regret slipping into her thoughts. Would all of this be happening if she and Annette wouldn't have come?

Their conversation was cut short by Peter, who had replaced Caspian in front of the Witch. He ruthlessly shoved Caspian to the ground before defiantly shouting, "Get away from him!"

The Prince seemed to slip out of a daze. His expression was foggy, as though he had no idea what had been happening. Annette helped him stand up, and they both stared at Peter with hesitant eyes.

"Peter, dear. I've missed you. Come." The beautiful Witch whispered, her fingers slowly opening a bit more. "Just one drop." When Peter didn't move, a slight smile began to slip across her face. "You _know_you can't do this alone."

Something about her words stirred Peter. His face relaxed a bit. He was even beginning to drop his sword.

"He's going to do it;" Edmund hissed. "He's going to do something stupid." Margaret was going to ask about the woman, but Edmund quickly grabbed her wrist with his free hand and began hauling her behind the pillars.

"What… What are you doing?"

"I'll explain later," He murmured almost pathetically beneath his breath. "I just need you to come with me." Edmund stopped behind the large patch of ice. He let go of his grip on Margaret, holding his sword in front of him with both of his hands. His eyes quickly scanned the back of the Witch's dress. Flowing. Long. White. It was right before him. Her back was perfectly placed for a killing. "Alright. Now, tell me to stab her."

"What?" Margaret shouted incredulously.

"Just say it!" He shouted back.

Unsure of what else to do, and able to tell that this was a bad situation to begin with, Margaret quickly cried out. "Edmund, do it _now!_" She closed her eyes. She heard the crash of metal against ice. The scraping noise irritated her ears, but she kept them uncovered. The ice continued to crack; slowly at first, but then rapidly picking up the pace. It was only seconds until she heard the woman scream… and then silence.

Carefully, she opened her eyes. Everyone stared at Edmund in shock. He, on the other hand, was staring only at Peter. The disgust lining his features was impossible to hide. "I know." His voice was low as irritation dripped from his lips. "You had it sorted." Furiously, he shoved the sword to Margaret as he continued walking on. She was taken aback by his brusque nature, but took the sword anyway. Her feet lifted from the floor as she considered following him. Once he turned the corner, she knew that she had to. Her fingers dropped the sword with a clang as she darted off in his direction.

Caspian had once again slipped away from Annette's grip. He and Peter stared ahead of them at a large carving of Aslan on the wall. Annette looked at Caspian no longer with admiration. The respect she had for him was lost within the past few minutes. And worse, when she went to glare at him, his eyes weren't even fixed on her. They were fixated on Susan, now standing at the opening of the room. Despite her anger, Annette's hostility suddenly vanished. An unexpected knot grew in her stomach.

The way he looked at Susan, how his eyes looked down when she left…

It was then that Annette noticed the cut on his hand. Small drops of blood were falling from it, tumbling to the ground in a perfect pool. "Caspian," she tried to say sternly, but it came out as more of a choke. "Sit down. Let me wrap your hand." Caspian looked at her for a moment with sorrow in his face. Annette was not in the mood for apologies and blatant regrets. She gestured towards the rock, but he didn't move. "Sit."

He carefully sat down on the stone table, extending his hand out to her. She knew his eyes were on _her_ now, but her thoughts were what kept her attention. Not him. She couldn't trust him at the moment, but they couldn't have an injured leader. Firmly, she pulled on the bottom of her shirt beneath her armor. A strip of tan fabric came off easily. "Don't worry," She grumbled. "It's clean."

Caspian did not protest. He sat patiently and watched as her shaky fingers tied the bandage around his palm. "You're going to want to wash it." She paused, letting her fingers rest in his palm for a moment. She could feel the warm blood from beneath the bandage. There was nothing else she could do to help him.

To her surprise, she felt something tighten around her fingers as she began to pull her hand away. Caspian's fingers were holding her back. His grip was so tight that she could feel him shaking. His chocolate eyes were swelling up as though there was something he wanted to say. There was no strength within him to find the words. Without thinking, she squeezed his hand back. She wanted to be mad at him, but temptation does not always have a reason.

Caspian's eyes shut at the feeling of her touch. "Annette," He said breathlessly. "You do not understand. It was a mistake… I didn't think-"

"No." Her hand fell from his. "You didn't think." She turned her back to him. He may have been a Prince, but he wasn't hers. She was slipping from his vision when his voice caught up with her.

"Perhaps Peter was right about me." Caspian whispered in the silence. Annette felt her knees go weak for a moment before catching her balance. That was a blow. The biggest one he could give and it was given to himself. The things Peter said to Caspian were out of line. The fact that he might actually agree with them got Annette worried. She couldn't bring herself to face him though. Not yet.

Annette slowly turned to watch him when she was out of his sight. Caspian's fingers recoiled and pulled themselves back towards his chest. He placed his hand to his face, where his lips lingered on his palm for a moment. A silent kiss for an invisible girl. Annette was already feeling guilty as she watched him sigh up to the heavens with resentment. She was still upset, but already felt hate at how quickly she had left him alone.

~.~.~.~

Margaret stumbled over stones, kicking up dust as she rushed out of the damaged room. Her eyes caught sight of the lifeless Nikabrik. Despite his mutiny, she couldn't help but feel tinged by sadness. Whose fault was this? Where was this Aslan when everyone needed him so much? She had other things on her mind though, and she quickly made her way to pursue them. As she turned a corner, her searching had ended.

"Edmund?" Her voice was faint. When he didn't slow down or turn she spoke louder. "Edmund!" He heard her, but didn't make a move to interact. "I'm not going to let you walk out like that!" Her fingers firmly found his shoulder, but he shoved her off at the first sensation of her touch. "Edmund-"

"Leave me alone. _Please_. I don't have anything to say." When he began to walk away again, Margaret couldn't stop her feet from following him.

"You have to talk to me."

Edmund stopped in his tracks. His body began to turn towards her, but then he turned away with a drop of his head. His fingers fiddled with the top of his sword casing and when no one spoke again he turned into the nearest room. Margaret slowly walked to the door. She saw him sitting on a makeshift pile of hay, his body slumped and his eyes staring into the ceiling. She slowly made her way next to him, sitting on the floor beside his shoes. "I would wait for you to start talking…" Her whispers turned into echoes in the empty room. "But I feel like you won't."

His eyes were staring down into hers. There was no more angst in them, only concern. He could not keep their connection for long, and his eyes turned away from hers. "I didn't want this to happen."

"She bewitched him," Margaret said anxiously. "Peter was desperate. Imagine how he felt… You know that's not what this is about though." Edmund's dark eyes flickered away once again. The orange candlelight flickered in the blackness of his pupils. "You can tell me."

He looked like he was about to leave, but thankfully he was just shifting in his seat. "I don't have anything to say."

"But if you did-"

"Do you really want to know?" Edmund's voice was fierce. "I'll tell you if you're _dying_ to know that badly." She could feel her heart pounding. Edmund's hostility was not something she was used to. Why were boys always set out to be awful to her? Was she deemed forever unlucky? If she said something, she was afraid her voice might crack, revealing her embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Margaret." His words were a sigh of relief to the flustered girl. "I'm upset that you have to see me like this. I don't want you to see my weakness."

Her hands were shaky, so she clasped them tightly together in her lap. She shut her eyes. In her heart, Margaret knew she wanted to stay and talk to him. But something about it scared her. With the way he was reacting, Edmund was clearly frustrated with his secret. If he told her, a new door would open between them. She would become a friend to him. A true friend who knew the other's secret. Margaret was hesitant about friends as it was. But with a boy? A few years ago, that was unthinkable for her.

Edmund must have noticed how lost in her thoughts she was, because he waited for her to open her eyes again. When she did, tears stung the bottom of them. They formed small, clear rivers that she quickly destroyed with the back of her hand. "Sorry," She muttered. "I was thinking too much."

"I know how that feels..." Edmund grumbled.

Margaret turned away from him, hoping the redness in her eyes would soon fade. She didn't need him seeing her like this. He might mock her about it later on. Maybe he would tell the others. Maybe he would make fun of her to her face. The more she thought about it, the more insecure she became. Her heart was pounding louder with each second until she had to clamp her hands over her ears.

Edmund was not paying attention though. He began speaking idly while Margaret tried to calm herself. "She tricked me. She gave me candy. She told me I could be King." He kicked up dust from the ground with the heel of his boot in aggravation. "She tempted me with power. We would rule _together_, she kept saying…" He shook his head back and forth in disbelief at his own memory. "I was so selfish, so naive. I fell for it… all of it."

The more Margaret listened, the more she understood. As he spoke, different emotions took over his eyes. Shame. Guilt. Regret. It was all right there on his face. His hands fiddled nervously in his lap; so much that Margaret was one step away from reaching out and taking them. "Why would she do that to you?"

"Jadis, the White Witch, even scared Aslan off. She ruled Narnia for a hundred years. Her cold heart always made it winter. There was a prophecy that all would be right when the Sons and Daughters of Adam returned." Margaret knew he was talking about him and his siblings. "It's funny," Edmund gave out a small laugh, a smirk slipping across his face. Margaret's face warmed at the sight of a possible smile. "I can't even imagine how frightened she was when she saw me standing in the woods in my night robe. I was so young, and yet I must have been terrifying."

Margaret imagined the picture in her head: the powerful, beautiful woman being completely horrified by a tiny boy in his pajamas. Because it was Edmund, the situation was even more amusing. She giggled a bit to herself and Edmund easily joined in. The chuckles were seemingly for no reason at all. It felt good to laugh. It had been so long.

"I'm surprised someone like you is tempted by something as simple as _candy_." Margaret teased, tucking her hair lightly behind her ear. She continued to chuckle at the thought of it, but when she noticed Edmund was silent, she worriedly glanced in his direction. "I'm sorry," She muttered. "I didn't mean to offend you."

Edmund's eyes stared at the strand of hair she had just hidden away from him. "It's alright." His voice was calm after a moment. "I wasn't offended."

Margaret nodded her head slowly, taking in the situation around her for the first time. She was alone with him. Completely alone. And here they were, laughing and sharing secrets. She'd never had a boy be nice to her. None of them had wanted to start a conversation before. She was told she was pretty from girls, but why did no one approach her? Was it her huge imagination? Was she too quiet? Margaret opened her mouth to say something, but quickly shut it. Edmund continued to look at her, his dark eyes unable to stay still as they glanced across her face. "Edmund," She finally said. "Why are you being nice to me?"

"What do you mean?"

Margaret could see the streaks of red and orange flickering across his face. The torches moved the shadows on his face in a haunting, yet handsome way. Somehow, the lighting made him look older. She could picture him as a King of Narnia, grown up and strong. "No… boy… has ever been nice to me." Her cheeks began to feel warm. "They all ignore me. They whisper things about me." Her thoughts drifted back to Peter. "They yell at me for no reason."

Edmund's faced tightened into a grimace. "Why would they do that?" Margaret shrugged, not having any more of an idea than he did. "There's no reason they'd be like that." He paused. "Unless…"

"Unless?"

Edmund blinked a few times, but looked away in what seemed to be embarrassment. "It's nothing. I just don't see why they'd do that to you."

"It's because they don't like me." Margaret whispered, thinking back to the boy who called her strange. "They don't know what it's like to feel lonely." Edmund still faced away. "What gives them the _right_ to treat me that way? There's nothing I've done in my life to set any boy off. I don't even speak to them, let alone aggravate them. I've seen girls my age pathetically flirt to the point of exhaustion, and yet they _still_ choose them." Margaret's fists were clenched with angered sweat building up between her fingers. She knew it was probably not the key moment to be complaining, but it felt like therapy. She felt like she could finally get it off of her chest. "I don't understand it," She grumbled. "You and your _kind_."

"It's because of you." Edmund said suddenly, taking her off guard.

"… What?"

"It's you." He sighed, looking at her with complete honesty. "It's a thing we do. We put ourselves down when we see a pretty girl. We think we have no shot. I would bet you that they didn't talk to you because they were nervous. They teased you, because they hoped you would notice them." Margaret was frozen. What he was saying couldn't be true. She'd grown up thinking they all hated her. Things couldn't really be the way he was describing. "Margaret, there's no other explanation. If you didn't do anything wrong, they wouldn't treat you like that."

"That's not fair. How can you prove that?"

Edmund straightened up a bit. His eyes scanned her face; looking for an answer to something, but when he found nothing he broke away. "I can't prove it. You just have to trust me." Margaret narrowed her brows in warning. But when she saw his eyes, she knew he was telling the truth. Her whole youth she'd gone thinking boys ignored her for no reason. She was so naïve about it; so foolish and youthful. _If only I'd have known…_She thought. _If only I'd have known…_

"I do," She suddenly whispered, pulling herself closer to him. Edmund's eyes grew wide, but he did not move. "I… trust you."

Nerves were not very well hidden at that moment. Edmund's chest was quickly rising and falling. Margaret's hands were shaking. She was so close. She could seal any space between them in a second. Margaret shut her eyes, trying to snap back into reality, but she knew that she was already in it. She just didn't know what to do. When she opened her eyes again to see things hadn't changed, fear suddenly rose in her throat. She couldn't do this. She couldn't like him. Not now. There were very few people she could trust, and though she just claimed to trust him, she found herself in skepticism.

Her hands pressed down into the floor, hauling herself up. "I have to go," She spat out quickly. "I have to see how Annette-" Before she could get her sentence out, something cut her off.

A strong force pulled her back by the upper arm. She felt herself spinning backwards, her body hitting something soft and warm. When she cracked open her eyes, she found herself pressed against Edmund. She wanted to scream, because she didn't know what else to do. Their eyes never left each other, both pairs of them unsure and unstable. Margaret could have kissed him right there. She didn't know why she would, but the opportunity was certainly there.

Luckily for her, he got the idea quicker.

He gently placed his hand on her neck, breaking the space between them. A cold sensation rushed through her as she felt soft lips against hers. Her eyes were still open, wondering when she would wake up from this dream. When nothing happened, and when the firelight flickered continuously beside her, she finally released the tension in her shoulders and a herself melt into him. When Edmund broke free from her, Margaret struggled to open her eyes. Her lips were parted. She struggled to catch the breath that would soon flow to her pounding heart. His hands were still around her. She could feel them trembling. "I'm sorry," Edmund spat out suddenly. "Margaret, I'm so sor-"

Without thinking, she held onto him once again. Her head hit the brown leather on his chest. The comfort was overwhelming and she wrapped her arms tightly around him in hopes that it would never go away. Her fingers gripped a piece of fabric as her eyes sealed with a silent hope. _Please hold me back,_She begged. _Please don't leave me alone._As if hearing her thoughts, Edmund's arms found their way around her. His hand landed gently on her head, the hug lasting for a while.

Margaret knew once it was over, things would change. She would have to stop dreaming, stop watching. Margaret would have to wake up, and learn how to fight. When she broke free from Edmund, she would be a new Margaret.


	16. The Healing Process

**Hey guys, this is MisticLight speaking :D Finally got the _Voyage of the Dawn Treader_ DVD! I was sad when I saw there weren't any bloopers, but the deleted scenes made up for that rather quickly. I hope everyone enjoyed MistroString's chapter via Margaret and Edmund because it was one of the cutest things ever.**

**We would also like to thank Iggy'sGirl15 (and anyone else who may have done this) for giving this story a shout out in her own tale. It's a Caspian/OC story titled "Let It Go" in case anyone is interested. I've personally read it and enjoyed it :)**

**As always, happy reading!**

**~MisticLight**

~.~.~.~.

Margaret, her hands crossed over her chest, kicked a loose rock down a dimly lit passageway. She was alone. But Margaret never minded being alone. She liked how her mind jumped all over the place. Although right now she just needed some time to concentrate on a few important matters.

She kicked the rock once again, recollecting the events of the past hour. Peter's promise to teach her combat. Annette's worried expression. Caspian's mistake. The White Witch… Edmund. Margaret stopped in her tracks. She didn't know _what_ to think about him.

"Why did I kiss him?" She asked the silence. As soon as her words echoed off the wall, she immediately wanted to take them back. Somewhere deep down, she actually wanted to kiss him.

… Somewhere. Embarrassment rose to Margaret's cheeks.

_It was wrong, _She internally argued with herself. _And now isn't the right time for such nonsense._ She bit her lower lip. _I didn't mean that. I didn't! At least… I don't think I did?_

Frustrated, Margaret kicked the stone down the path. The rock rebounded off the right wall and landed a few feet ahead of her. "Why is this so complicated?" She groaned as she walked after it. "I _barely_ know him."

She stopped right behind the small stone. "… But I trust him."

Margaret bent down and picked the rock up. She stared at its coarse, tan surface. _Why am I thinking so much about him? He's just another stupid boy!_

She smiled to herself. Edmund was more to her than that. He's a boy with the brightest brown eyes she had ever seen, a boy whose brown hair always managed to shine in the sunlight, a boy whose never-ending smirk always brought color to her cheeks.

Margaret closed her eyes, resting her head on the rock she held. "Everything's just moving so fast." She whispered. Her grip on the rock tightened. She was angry at herself for getting so close to another boy; especially in this magical, war-ridden land. Anger welled up in her throat, the urge to scream all her troubles away slowly arising. But the scream never came. It was stifled by the beating in her heart. Trapped. That's all Margaret felt.

Aggravated, she hurled the stone down the corridor. It was all she could do to have her mind break away from its overflowing thoughts. The small clicking noise the rock made as it hit the wall and rounded the corner calmed.

Until she heard the stone scrape against the sullied floor. _Last time I checked…_ _rocks don't move once they've stopped._ Margaret thought, her eyes wide under the realization that someone must have picked it up.

"Is someone there?" A voice questioned from the curvy path up ahead. Margaret's eyes widened once an all-too-familiar voice reached her ears. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape. Walking back wasn't an option. It was too long of a tunnel and she'd be spotted in to time. A faint image suddenly flashed into her mind: a darkened second tunnel that led away from her current hallway. However, she wasn't too certain it even existed.

"Hello?" The voice tried once more with footsteps following. There was no time to think. Hoping that her memory wasn't faulty, Margaret took off in search of the possible escape.

A few seconds later, she was standing before the hidden passage. Because of the firelight, the frame appeared to be a shadow on the wall. No one would be able to find the tunnel unless they were deliberately searching for it.

Margaret peered into the passageway. The only light she could make out was far down the cavern, appearing to be very faint from this angle. As long as she hid in the shadows, she wouldn't be detected.

Without a second though, Margaret scrambled inside and pressed herself against the wall. Seconds later, a sudden dash of brown flew past her. Dust chased after the figure. Unable to catch up, it leaked into Margaret's tunnel and found a way into her eyes. She shut them until she deemed the dust settled. When she reopened her eyes, she found herself not breathing. There, in the adjacent hallway, right at the entrance of her hiding spot, stood Edmund.

_Of all the places to stand… _Margaret grumbled in her mind. She pressed herself further into the wall, hoping it would just consume her. Speaking with Edmund was _not _something she could handle at the moment.

But Edmund wasn't looking at her. He was looking into his hands at the same tan rock Margaret held not five minutes before. Margaret looked down at her shoes with embarrassment.

_Why are you hiding? Just go talk to him. Nothing bad will happen. Just… talk. _She tried giving herself a pep talk, but it held little affect. Sighing, Margaret looked back up. But all she saw was an empty hallway. Edmund was gone.

With a reluctant heart, she slowly walked towards the glow at the end of the tunnel.

~.~.~.~.

Margaret felt like she was running away, and she loathed the feeling. Especially since there was really nothing she could do about it. A confrontation with Edmund would send her spinning, so she wanted to avoid him. However, this guilty feeling was driving her insane and she longed for it to go away. The only way to be rid of it was by speaking with Edmund. Despite not favoring the idea though, Margaret had no idea where in the How she was.

The only thing keeping her sane at the moment was the light in the tunnel. Its soft light grew brighter with every step she took.

A giant opening in the stone proved to be the source of the light. Margaret stepped through the doorway and found herself standing on a rocky ledge overlooking the How's spacious field. Her eyes scanned the area before settling upon a forlorn Caspian. He was sitting on the ledge, looking out across the same barren field Margaret was. Even though his back was to her, she knew something was bothering him.

Thinking that perhaps two troubled minds could find some comfort, Margaret took a step towards Caspian, but an abrupt tug on her arm forced her spinning back. Annoyed, she faced the person preventing her from venturing out. She wasn't quite expecting to see Professor Cornelius standing there.

"Oh… Hello?" Margaret asked, confusion plainly showing on her face.

"Shhhh." Cornelius hushed, placing a thick finger to his lips. Margaret had hardly seen the Professor before, let alone talk with him, so one can only imagine the bewilderment that spread across her face when he beckoned her to follow. She did as she was told though, but not before glancing back at the pitiable Caspian one last time.

Cornelius walked a small distance down the hall before stopping in front of two torches, the first set of torches Margaret had seen in this tunnel. She stared down at the short old man. For some unknown reason, the thought of his long, curly beard catching fire suddenly entered her mind. Her eyes widened, but she said nothing.

"I do not believe the Prince will be able to hear us now." The Professor slowly said, folding his hands over his rather round stomach.

"Caspian?" Margaret asked rather loudly, looking over her shoulder at the opening. "How-" Cornelius, despite their distance from Caspian, shushed her. Margaret awkwardly looked around the hallway before continuing in a quieter voice. "How come? What's wrong with him?"

"He has been troubled ever since today's events took place. I fear it may be because he's greatly upset your friend." The Professor said, causing Margaret to close her eyes. She knew this was going to happen. "I can tell the Prince has grown rather attached to her… even in this short amount of time."

The corners of Margaret's mouth twitched from the smile she was trying to hide. "They have quite the friendship." She opened her eyes when she couldn't contain her smile any longer.

Her smile vanished though when she met Cornelius's gaze. He looked over the rim of his glasses at her with raised eyebrows. "We can't have something such as this come between them, now can we?" Margaret, feeling like she was getting some sort of lecture from him, shook her head. The Professor lifted his gaze to a torch placed in front of him. "Especially not in times like this."

Margaret guiltily looked down at her shoes. "No… we can't." She quietly mumbled to herself. Although she knew Cornelius was talking about Annette and Caspian, Edmund had entered her thoughts. The feeling of embarrassment started up again.

"I will go talk with young Caspian." The Professor's sudden voice caused Margaret's head to snap up. "In the meantime, will you locate your friend?"

"Yes… Yes of course!" She stammered. "They should probably sort this out themselves though, considering they're the ones fighting and such." Cornelius nodded back at her brilliant plan, his eyes twinkling in the firelight.

As Margaret walked away, she couldn't help but feel as though Cornelius had just dismissed her from a school lesson. He knew what she should do long before she herself had. Perhaps this _'brilliant plan'_ of hers was Cornelius's all along.

However, that thought was quickly pushed away. She had a friendship to save.

~.~.~.~.

She could smell the stables before she even entered them. Normally, Margaret wouldn't set foot inside such a room. She'd much rather get on a horse without having to smell where it came from. But she was lost. So when the smell of horses filled Margaret's nose, she embraced it. She knew how to find the main room from the stables.

The walls around her pulled away into a wide room. Grass and a few pieces of hay scattered about the floor. The stable itself didn't contain that many horses, just the three that Caspian, Annette, and Cornelius managed to gather before from Miraz's castle, but the Griffins enjoyed sleeping in there. A smile worked its way onto Margaret's face as the feeling of riding one came back to her. At the time, it had been the most frightening thing she could remember. Then that was replaced by the battle at the castle…

A somber look consumed her. The Griffin had brought her to the tower where Edmund had been signaling troops. Margaret didn't want to think of Edmund right now, but he wouldn't get out of her head. She was getting a bit annoyed with herself because of it.

"Margaret, you look terrible." A soft voice broke her chain of thought. She looked around the room only to find Annette stroking a black horse. A black horse she knew to be Caspian's.

Annette's saddened eyes gazed back at Margaret. The braid she had in earlier that day was now undone, leaving her with a hair full of messy waves. Margaret wore a smirk as she made her way over. "You don't look so good yourself." Annette didn't respond. She just went back to stroking the beautiful horse. This wasn't like her. "You know, if you're still mad with Caspian, I don't believe spending time with his _horse_ will make things any better."

"Change the subject." Annette sharply glared at Margaret, who continued to wear a smile.

She teasingly raised her hands in defense. "Whatever you say."

Annette's eyes seemed to double in size, obviously taking things seriously. "Margaret, I didn't mean it! I'm just…" She searched her mind for the right words, but none seemed to fit. Unable to finish her thought, Annette sighed and began petting the horse once more. "Destrier is just comforting, that's all."

Margaret stared at the creature. She also found some comfort from him. Perhaps it was because it reminded her of home so much. "I kissed Edmund." She suddenly sighed, not understanding why she chose now to tell her friend this. It just slipped out.

Annette's head fell forward a bit. Her hand froze in place upon the horse's neck. "What?"

"Well," Margaret bit her lip. "I guess technically he kissed me…."

"Margaret, that's not really what I was-"

"I know!" She held up a hand, cutting Annette off. "I know! I just thought I should tell you."

"Well thanks for _that_ information." Annette said, trying her best to cover up the sarcasm. "But that still doesn't explain-"

"Annette, you know that's not what I'm here for."

"Oh." She looked back at Destrier, her eyes filling with sorrow. She was hoping Margaret would stray off the subject of Caspian. Annette was still angry with him for not listening and upset over reasons she couldn't quite piece together. A knot grew in her stomach when she thought about it. "I don't want to talk about him."

"As I've said before, not wanting to speak only means you should." Margaret replied before Annette turned away to grab a horse treat from a bag on the floor. With a sigh, Margaret circled around her. "Annette, don't do this to yourself." Annette wouldn't look her in the eye. "Annette." Having picked up the treat, Annette spun around to face the horse. She reached her hand out and let the his lips tickle her hand as it took the treat. By now Margaret was becoming very annoyed with her friend. She walked until she stood squarely in front her, her hands rising to her hips. "Annette! Listen to me." Margaret commanded.

Annette, trying to hide her sudden fear, timidly lifted her eyes. "Fine." She muttered without any emotion.

Margaret placed her hands on Annette's shoulders to push her away from Destrier. The fewer distractions, the better. "I know you're upset," She began, releasing her hands in order to cross them. "But you're what keeps me, somewhat, sensible whenever I feel like I'm about to lose it. You having all these feelings stuffed inside will eventually make you fall to pieces. If you fall apart… then I will too." Annette couldn't find the strength to look Margaret in the eye. She knew she was right. "Caspian is moping around on the ledge just outside the How… You must speak with him."

"And why should I?" Annette suddenly snapped at her friend. Margaret opened her mouth to reply, but Annette had already started talking up again. "So I can be ignored again? Tossed aside even after I try my best to help? So this feeling of betrayal lingers in the back of my mind? I can't do it Margaret! I can't live through being just another object in the room, completely forgotten by all humanity. I can't!" She hugged herself, picking a spot on the ground to stare at. "…Not again."

"Why do I get the feeling this is about _more _than just Caspian?" Margaret placed a comforting hand Annette's. "Perhaps you two have more in common than what you thought."

"Margaret, I left him by the Stone Table when he needed me most. Friends don't do that to each other. What if he does the same?"

"He won't, trust me." She smiled. Annette meekly smiled back; however this wasn't good enough by Margaret's standards. "Besides, you'll always have me." The smile she had been waiting for danced across Annette's face. They hugged each other before Annette went off to confront Caspian.

Margaret made her way back to Destrier. She stroked his shining black coat, letting the comfort rest in her fingers. It had been such a long day… and it wasn't even noon.

~.~.~.~.

Annette stood in the doorway leading to the ledge outside the How. Beside her lay Caspian's light armor. She found it as she passed by the Stone Table, and knew she'd feel bad if she'd just leave it there. So she hauled it the rest of the way up.

Her eyes, having been used to the dim firelight, had to adjust to the brighter natural light. The sun was just rising out of its morning phase and heading into the afternoon. In front of her, Caspian and Professor Cornelius sat in a peaceful silence. Annette, feeling awkward despite the serene setting, coughed in order to grab their attention.

Caspian only turned his head half way. As soon as he saw Annette standing out of the corner of his eye, a feeling of guilt washed over him. He was still angry with himself for not listening to her.

Cornelius, upon seeing Annette, stood up and made his way to the door. "I sense you have much to talk about." He said, referring to no one in particular. He nodded his head as he past Annette. Even after the Professor left, no one spoke.

"Caspian?" Annette finally squeaked, making the first attempt at conversation. She placed his armor along the wall behind her. "I brought your armor." She tried to smile, but it felt out of place. Her fingers hooked onto each other as her nerves started to settle.

"Thanks." He muttered. Annette waited for him to say more, but nothing happened.

Shyly, she walked over to the space next to him. "May I?" Upon seeing Caspian's nod, Annette sat down beside him. They exchanged quick glances. "Thanks."

They sat in silence for so long that Annette was beginning to have second thoughts about coming. She started fumbling with her hair. "Annette?" Caspian's sudden voice made her jump. "Do you think all Telmarines are as bad as the Narnians say?"

His sudden question left Annette a bit perplexed, but she knew that if she didn't answer quickly, Caspian could get the wrong impression.

"No," She stared ahead, remembering all the Telmarines back at the castle. "Or at least not _all_ of them." Caspian remained silent. Not wanting to have another strange pause, Annette stared right at him and continued prattling. "Professor Cornelius is nice, and I think the General has some sense of right and wrong in him. "I'm sure your father was a good man, although I've never met him. You speak of him with such a high regard that it must be true." The corners of Caspian's mouth twitched. "And _you_. You're probably the best Telmarine I've ever met."

His slight smile vanished once another thought crossed his mind. "I certainly did not act like that today." Caspian said without making eye contact with Annette. "And I am sorry for it… all of it."

With a shaky hand, she grabbed Caspian's to give it a comforting squeeze. This was her way of telling him everything was forgiven. That everything that had happened in the past few hours was nothing compared to their friendship. "And I shouldn't have left you the way I did. I should have stayed, or at least came back. _I'm_ sorry for that."

"But you did come back." He locked eyes with her. "Why?"

"Because you're my friend." Annette mumbled, placing her hand in her lap. Her eyes became dull as she stared at it. "My friends are the most important thing in my life. Without them… I have nothing."

"Surely you must have a family." Caspian half chuckled. He immediately stopped when Annette didn't lift her gaze. His face paled. "Annette, I'm sorry. I just assumed-"

"It's fine." She smiled up at him, assuring him she hadn't been hurt. She'd actually gotten this reaction many times before, and it certainly needed an explanation. Annette knew Caspian was waiting for one, even if he wouldn't allow himself to ask. _Should I really tell my life story to Caspian?_ She wondered, eyeing him carefully. Although she lost track of the days, Annette figured she hadn't known Caspian for more than a week. However, her gut told her she could rely on him. She trusted him.

"Back in my world, there is a war." She finally said after a deep breath. "Right away my father went off to fight. My older brother wanted to join too, but my mother insisted he stay for the sake of my younger one. None of it really mattered though since my father was shortly relieved after receiving a major injury. After that, my family began sinking economically until my parents were forced to give up their children… or at least that was the plan." Annette hugged her knees to her chest, dreading the next part.

"I woke up one morning to find everyone gone. I searched _everywhere_ for my family, but all I found was a note stating _'You need to leave the house by noon or else you'll be trespassing.'_ No signature, no location, nothing. They just… left… Luckily Margaret's family willingly took me in. We'd been friends for years, so…" She trailed off with a shrug, not knowing what else to say, before turning to Caspian.

He was trying to figure out a response. _Anything but 'I'm sorry._ She mentally pleaded to him. People were always saying that to her, whether they truly meant it or not, and Annette was sick of them feeling sorry for her; especially when people probably have burdens of their own. It just didn't seem right.

Caspian unexpectedly raised his hand to her face, tucking a piece of hair she'd failed to notice slip away. Her heart picked up when his hand lingered for a few moments. He genuinely smiled at her "Why would someone leave behind a girl like you?"

Annette couldn't contain the blush from spreading across her face. No one had ever said anything like that to her before. Not knowing how to react, she scooted closer to Caspian and laid her head on his left shoulder. No words needed to be spoken.

~.~.~.~.

Annette hadn't realized that she'd fallen asleep on Caspian until he started shaking her awake. When she opened her eyes, the sun was much higher in the sky compared to what she last remembered. She shot up; embarrassed that she had fallen asleep on him for possibly hours.

Caspian launched out of his seated position and grabbed his armor. Annette's eyes followed him as he fastened it and ran into the hallway. Apparently the first person he saw was Edmund. "Edmund!" His voice was panicked, making Annette's insides turn. "Edmund! Get everyone up here now!"

"Why?" The confused boy appeared in the doorway. He briefly looked at Annette, but what really drew his attention was what lied _behind_ her. His eyes grew and in a matter of seconds he took off down the hallway.

Caspian went back to Annette, forcing her away from the edge. She gazed at his anxious face before finally looking to the trees that lie across the field. A sickening feeling erupted inside of her.

All along the border of the forest was the fully clad Telmarine army.


	17. Declaration of Death

**Sorry guys! Prom was this weekend or else I would have uploaded it by now. This chapter is also really obnoxiously long, so I apologize ahead of time for slacking editing and stuff like that. Hope you all enjoy this freakishly long chapter!**

**~Infinite X's and O's~**

**MistroStrings**

~.~.~.~.~

Margaret stood silently, her tired hands brushing Destrier's back over and over again. Her eyelids were drooping and she wondered when the last time she got a decent amount of sleep was. "You're lucky…" She mumbled to the horse. "You can just sit in here all day until Caspian needs you." The horse turned its head slightly, listening to her speak. "You don't have to deal with boys." The horse let out a quick snort, turning his face away from her. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry," Margaret laughed. "I meant _girls._I didn't mean to suggest something else." She continued to pet the horse until her hands became numb. Gently, she leaned her head against his warm body and shut her eyes. "I'm too tired for all of this." She sighed, dropping her hands down to her side. "This is the longest dream I've ever had." Her thoughts would have continued on like that for a while, if she had not heard someone shout above her.

"Edmund!" The shout called. She recognized by the tone that it belonged to Caspian. "Edmund! Get everyone up here now!" Margaret froze, her eyes now wide open. She wasn't going to wait for Edmund to come find her. Panicked, she rushed out of the stables and headed towards the balcony. _What's going on? What if something happened to Annette?_At the thought of this, Margaret instantly began to sprint faster up the stairs.

"Margaret!" Someone called out in front of her. She halted about halfway up the staircase and looked up. Edmund spoke to her from the top. "You need to come-"

"I know," She said breathlessly. "I heard."

She quickly made her way up to the top of the balcony, stepping outside to see what all of the commotion was. The sting of the cold morning air hit her face as she went out onto the ledge. She wanted to say something, but the only thing she could manage to get out was a long sigh. Pathetically, she slumped in place as she stared at the vast army standing before her. Annette moved closer to go back inside, fear already visible on her face.

"There's hundreds," Caspian spat. "_Thousands_, even."

Peter slowly made his way up to Margaret, looking at her until she returned the gaze. Her eyes darted up at him in distress after she snapped herself back into reality. "Well," He said firmly, his voice full of hostility. "So much for those practice lessons."

~.~.~.~

"Get everyone together," Caspian said tiredly. His back was turned away from the army. Margaret wasn't sure whether it was out of embarrassment, or simply just to address the rest of them, but Caspian didn't look ready at all. "Meet in the planning room." There was a long pause. Everyone knew they would be discussing what to do next. The only problem was that none of them knew what to do. "_Quickly._" Caspian emphasized before rushing out the door.

Peter and Margaret were now the only ones actually facing the army. Edmund glanced up at her momentarily, but after noticing her eyes were purposely kept off him, he followed Caspian's lead.

"Come on." Susan nudged Lucy slightly, guiding her back inside.

"I suppose we'd better go quickly," Trumpkin muttered. He sighed heavily, his obvious nerves speaking for the rest of the group's. "And talk about…" He paused, glancing up at Margaret. She knew if she looked at him, she would crumble and her horror would be palpable. "…things." He finished his sentence gloomily, marching back inside with the Professor not far behind.

Peter and Margaret stood on the crumbling edge. They were alone. She looked over at him for reassurance, but his face was frozen and statuesque. He made no effort to speak or move. "Peter," Margaret whispered gently. She didn't want to startle him. However, when he still stood mute she spoke a bit louder. "They're waiting for us. We should go. We should-"

"We should do _what_?" He mumbled. "Do you have any ideas?" Margaret's voice had been ripped out from her. He was right. She had nothing to say. "Why do I feel like this is going to be up to me?" Margaret could have argued that it would have been up to Caspian to decide, and that Peter was being too arrogant, but she knew. They all knew. Peter was going to be put in charge, because Peter was High King. He had failed them before and if he failed them again it was going to be his neck.

"I'll be there," She said calmly. "I'll stand by you."

Those words must have meant something to Peter, because he finally broke his gaze away from the Telmarines. His eyes met hers for a moment, looking for a deeper meaning. After a moment of searching, he tore them away and began to walk inside.

"That'll mean something…" He said as he walked away. "If you actually do."

~.~.~.~.~.~

No one was getting anywhere. Every idea had been shot down so far. Everyone should stay there and fight the Telmarines. Shot down. If the Centaurs went first then maybe the majority of the enemies would be gone and easy to take care of. Shot down. If we let them sit there a day longer... Shot down. Retreat? Not even a possibility. Everyone began to grow more tired as well as anxious. As the candle wax shortened, the breaths quickened. Time was drawing closer to a decision that needed to be made.

Peter, exhausted and peeved, leaned his arms against a stone table wearily. He dropped his head between his shoulders as his most recent idea was yet again dismissed. "Cakes and kettledrums. That's your next big plan?" Trumpkin said, an unhidden look of disgust crossing his face. "Sending a little girl into the darkest parts of the forest, _alone_?" Margaret turned her face away, already feeling uncomfortable with the anger in his voice.

"It's our only chance." Peter said firmly.

"And she won't be alone." Susan reassured, taking a step closer to her sister.

They had reached a point where no other conclusions could be made. By the looks of it, the plan they had established was the best one and everyone except Trumpkin knew that was true. Annette looked over at Margaret for encouragement, but found her with her face turned away. Margaret already had a lot on her mind. Now she was going to be engaging in a battle when she didn't even know how to fight. _I'll talk to her after this is over,_Annette said to herself.

The room grew silent as Trumpkin looked up at Lucy. His hair was a mess and his face was dirty. You couldn't help but see the defeat written clear across his face. "Ha-Haven't... Haven't enough of us died already?" He asked pathetically. Lucy could only frown as an answer.

"Nikabrik was my friend too," Trufflehunter answered from behind. "But he lost hope. Queen Lucy hasn't and neither have I."

Edmund sat next to him, his tired arms resting on his knees. Margaret looked at him for a while, wishing she could say something. She found her thoughts going back to where they had before—why she had kissed him—and she instantly looked away again.

Annette stared at the Badger for a moment, before a slight smile came to her face. "I was wondering for a moment," She whispered to Caspian. "…if I had given up hope."

He looked down at her in surprise. "And what conclusion did you reach?" He asked mockingly, a much needed smile on his face. It was small, but it was there. That was much more than what she could have asked for.

"As long as no one else has," She said. "Neither have I."

Margaret overheard Annette behind her. Annette and Caspian were still hopeful and seemingly so was everyone else. But why wasn't she? The longer she stood in that room, the dizzier she became. In fact, she was just starting to realize it when she began to get light-headed and tumble over. "Miss.?" A deep voice said from beside her. She looked up at the Grizzly Bear standing next to her, his black eyes etched with concern. "Perhaps you should sit." He offered her his paw, gently helping her to a rock.

"Thank you." She said breathily. Edmund must have noticed because when she looked up, his eyes were locked onto hers. His brows knitted together in confusion, but she tore her eyes away, hoping he would get the hint that she was alright. Or at least, she was trying to be.

Reepicheep hopped up on the center table, drawing his sword nobly across his chest. "For Aslan." He made it seem like Aslan was actually there with them. The Lion had yet to show his fuzzy face though.

"For Aslan!" The Grizzly Bear repeated.

Margaret looked up at the creature for a moment, not understanding his loyalty. _How can they have such faith in something they've never seen?_She cursed to herself. _Where is this Aslan? If he's so noble, why hasn't he helped us yet?_She wanted to shout at all of them, especially this Aslan, but she couldn't find the words. Not after everyone's hopes were suddenly so high. They needed to be strong with an army waiting right outside their door. Margaret knew that. In her opinion, she was just the only one thinking rationally.

"Then I'm going with you." Trumpkin suddenly said to his friend.

"No, we need you here." Lucy smiled and placed a loving hand on the Dwarf's shoulder.

"We have to hold them off until Lucy and Susan get back." A hopeful smile crossed Peter's face. Everyone had finally agreed to something! They finally had a plan. Annette was smiling to herself mainly because a decision was finally made. She turned to ask Caspian what _his_ plan was, but he beat her to the punch.

"If I may," He said loudly, capturing everyone's attention. He looked at Annette, his meaning written in his eyes. _I have an idea._Annette wasn't nervous, but curious. She scooted to the edge of the stair to listen closer. "Miraz may be a tyrant and a murderer, but as King, he is subject to the traditions and expectations of his people. There is one in particular that may buy us some time."

Peter narrowed his eyes towards Caspian. "Which is?"

"A duel," Caspian said with a mischievous smile on his face. "Between the leaders of the two armies until surrender." Everyone looked at one another and exchanged some nods. The idea seemed plausible. "…Or death."

"The leader?" Peter scoffed, followed by an irritated laugh. "This means me."

Caspian nodded simply. "Of course, you would need messengers to go and tell Miraz and his men of our suggestion. You would need to write a letter, that is. It would offer your agreement to fight him." Another bemused smirk flickered across his face. "That is, if you are."

"Of course I am!" Peter said quickly. "Someone get some paper. I'll write it now." Margaret watched Peter from the back of the room. She had calmed down a bit, but now that they were one step closer to a duel—and maybe this time to the death—she couldn't help but feel nervous for him. They didn't need their leader dying straight away. "Who's going to talk to Miraz?" Peter asked dismissively.

"I will," Edmund said firmly. "I think it's only fair. Give me your paper and I'll go to him."

"I will follow you," Glenstorm said, nobly bowing his head. "And we will get one of the giants to come along as well. Of course, he will be of physical support." Glenstorm spoke with a touch of humor in his words. Everyone had decided. Things were moving quickly and so far it seemed like a good plan.

Margaret stared at the floor in front of her. There were a few cracks here and there, but not enough for anyone to trip. She was glad for that. She had already messed up enough; tripping would only cause her more embarrassment. Just as doing nothing make her more of an inconvenience. Her head shot up in realization. "Wait!" Everyone turned to look at the quiet girl who was nearly forgotten. "I want to go…" With the Bear's help, she stood up straight. "I want to go with them to Miraz."

It wouldn't hurt if she went, they all knew that. _And_ it wasn't combat. "Of course," Peter said, raising his head. "That's perfectly logical."

Margaret nodded; finally glad she was of some use. She wouldn't be doing anything most likely, but she found herself excited. She wanted to go; she wanted to do something. Hopefully Edmund wouldn't mind. She also hoped she could finally lose her discomfort around him. This was just taking another step closer to lending a hand. Because she knew that eventually, her hand would be holding a sword.

~.~.~.~.~

Margaret and Annette had moved back to the stables, Annette pulling Margaret out as soon as the meeting was done. They had changed into their amour not too long ago. It was similar to Susan's: a dress with a protective plate across the chest. Annette's dress was a stunning blue and Margaret's a radiant green. It was strange to have possessions of their own in a place so foreign.

"Was something the matter?" Annette asked when the two were finally alone. "You looked sick during the meeting." Her face wore a look of motherly concern; one Margaret hadn't realized she'd missed so much. "I wanted to check on you."

"I'm fine," Margaret stumbled over her words. "I've just been thinking about things. This whole situation is making me nervous." She managed a quick smile. "As it should. After all, it is a war." Both of them stood in silence for a moment, their memories flashing back to England. There was a war back home and war where they were now. "Maybe we'll never escape it… Maybe we're bad luck."

Annette's brows creased in frustration. "Don't talk like that. You're only going to make yourself more upset." Margaret knew it wasn't her that would be troubled. The more she talked about war, the more Annette would be upset. She would start thinking about her family and soon have no other thoughts to occupy her mind. "I told Caspian about it." Margaret was caught off guard. "I told him about my family."

Margaret raised her brows in surprise. "That's not like you," She said. "What did he say? Did he say _'I'm sorry'_?" Margaret scoffed, sitting down upon a rock. "I know how much you hate that."

"No, he was perfect." Annette quickly confessed. Her face grew flushed after admitting this aloud. He _had_ been perfect, in her eyes. "That doesn't change things though. It doesn't make it any easier." Margaret shook her head. Both of them knew things didn't just get easier as soon as they'd like them to. "That's why I think I'm okay with all of this happening… with this war, I mean. I've come to accept it, even if I don't fully understand it."

Margaret nodded in solemn agreement. "I've accepted it too. But, I'm not okay with it. And worst of all, I don't know how to handle it… or myself." Her brain wracked with images of her failing at sword fighting, hand to hand combat, and defense. Then her thoughts moved to the attack and how she failed to save both Kirian and Asterius. Then, Edmund. All of the memories began to make her head spin, and she quickly leaned over, taking hold of her skull with both of her hands. "I don't get why we're here, Annette." She whispered, shutting her eyes tightly. "What's the point of us being here? What brought us here?"

"Margaret…" Annette stuttered, taking a step closer to her friend. "You can't ask things like that. You just can't. Look at the Pevensies! They didn't know why-"

"They're Kings and Queens!" Margaret shouted suddenly, shooting up from her seat. She stepped closer to Annette, unafraid to let her feelings show. "They were destined for this! What does that make _us_? Duchesses?" Furiously, Margaret kicked the seat she was sitting on before collapsing on it once again. "You can't go on pretending, Annette. You can't tell me you actually _believe_that we're here for a reason."

Annette stood silently, unable to hide the shock in her eyes. Margaret was the most creative person she'd ever met. To deny the fantasy world they were in was not the Margaret she knew. Something had changed in her friend, something she wasn't prepared for. "Margaret… I won't say that I don't." Quickly, she dropped to her knees, holding her friend's hands in her own. "You can't say that either. Look at everything that's happened to us." Margaret's eyes slowly rose. Her face had turned ruddy from frustration. "Can you honestly say you don't believe this?"

"I don't believe in him," Margaret said quickly. "I don't believe in _Aslan_."

Annette sighed heavily, dropping her hands. She stood up and walked over to a large white horse watching their conversation. "I'm sorry you had to listen to that." She muttered, stroking the horse's back. Margaret didn't seem to hear. She still slumped pathetically in her seat.

There was silence for a long time. The rest of the Narnians had gone to put on their armor and think of battle strategies. Inside, everyone was nervous because of the last attack, but at the same time there was still hope for them. Annette glanced at Margaret. Well… _almost_ all of them. She turned her face back to the horse, her hands still stroking its soft fur. She could have kept that going for quite some time, if she hadn't hurt Margaret gasp, stumble, and stand up. "What?" Annette spun around. "What is-"

Both of the girls held their breath. No one dared to move. Both of their sleepy eyes were now wide awake, staring into the left corner of the room. In the shadows stood an enormous, golden animal. Its eyes were deep brown, but not terrifyingly so. The hair on it seemed almost surreal, as though their hands would sink through it if they were to touch it. And most charmingly, most quizzically, the creature wore a smile. "You're Aslan." Margaret sighed, her voice sounding as though she were in a dream.

"And you, my dear, are not what you appear to be." The Lion's head bowed as a form of welcoming. Unsure of what to do, Margaret quickly dropped to her knees to return her bow. She wanted to shout out apologizes. She wanted to scream about how horrible she was, and how she would never have such bad manners if she would have known he'd have been there the whole time. But, she couldn't find the words. She bowed, but nothing else came from her lips.

"Are you Aslan?" Annette said slowly, unable to blink in fear that he would disappear. "I mean… are you the _real_ one?" The Cat merely smiled. "You're smiling. I don't know what that means." She quickly looked to her friend for support. When she noticed Margaret on the floor, Annette's eyes only grew more hopeless. "Margaret!" She hissed. "Don't grabble!" Margaret quickly stood up from the floor, brushing off her dress in embarrassment. "How do we know you're really you?" Aslan still said nothing, but a low chuckle escaped his closed lips. "I think we should bring you to the others," Annette said, stiffening up. "Then they'll tell us."

"If you do not believe it's me, then you don't." His mane cocked to the side. "It's up to you, Annette. You must decide for yourself what is real and what isn't." Annette silently took in his words. _Had_ she ever decided for herself? It wasn't often. Back home, she rarely got a say in anything that happened. If she had, she would still be with her family.

"What do you mean?" She said slowly. "Even if I did decide for myself… Who would listen to me?" She dropped her eyes suddenly; afraid he would see how weak she thought she was. She sounded like a child, yet she believed what she said.

"There is a hidden strength within you, Annette." Aslan's voice said slowly and calmly. His words echoed off the walls, bouncing around in her head until it stuck. She almost believed him right away. "A strength that you may never find if first you don't believe in yourself."

Annette stayed silent for a moment. Those were words she'd thought of in her head before. She was hearing them now, spoken aloud and not from herself. She could have closed her eyes and pretended she was sleeping and acted like the voice was her conscience, but she knew better. She knew it wasn't like that. Aslan was real, and what he was telling her was the truth. "How long?" Her eyes begged for an answer. "How long will it take for me to be like that?"

"You must answer that question for yourself. It would benefit you most if you realized it soon."

"I'll try." Annette said quickly. "Ever since we came to Narnia, I've felt like there's something here that can help me with that. I don't know what it is. I just feel like there's something here for me; a way to discover myself." Aslan smiled, pleased to see that she was on the right track. Annette smiled in return. "It really is you."

Margaret still wavered in her place. Her head wasn't dizzy now, it was _reeling_. Her ears were buzzing and she scratched at them, hoping the sound of her own thoughts would go away. "Margaret and you still have time to think about things." Aslan said, looking now at her friend. "The only problem is getting her to listen." Aslan laughed.

Margaret will still at a loss for words and his chuckles weren't helping. Cats weren't supposed to laugh. They weren't supposed to talk, let alone give advice. After a moment of untying her tongue, she blurted out her first thoughts. "When did you walk in? I didn't even see you. You must have walked through the wall or something-"

"Margaret!" Annette said sternly.

Aslan wasn't fazed. He allowed himself another deep laugh. "That's something you've recently been lacking, Margaret: a mind of your own. You had it so much before in your home land. It seems as though when you came here, you lost sight of who you really are." Margaret frowned, knowing his words were right. She'd always been daydreaming, but when she actually got to live in one, she refused to let it get to her.

"I'm afraid I'll get lost in it all," She confessed. "I'm afraid of failing in it."

"You will never fail, Margaret. You will not fail any of these people, but only yourself. You think too negatively about your situation. This may be a time of darkness, but it is not a bad time. You are fortunate and surely you know that."

"I know I'm fortunate to be here. For so many reasons! I just feel like everything is so new and unknown to me. I'm tossed into it without a say and I don't know how to carry myself. In my dreams, I could control everything just by shutting my eyes and saying it was so." Her heart was racing as she continued to speak. "Here, it's like my feet move, but my head doesn't move fast enough. It's like I'm the only one who doesn't get what's going on."

"But you do, Margaret. You understand better than anyone. And that's what makes you afraid. You see the danger in it all. You care for everyone too much, and that makes you scared." Margaret hadn't looked at it that way. She hated to admit it, but the Cat was right. "Why did you volunteer to help Edmund?"

"Because," Margaret said quickly. "I didn't want to see him get hurt. I didn't want something bad to happen and me not be able to…" Once she realized what she was actually saying, she cut herself short. "… I wanted to be able to do something for him."

"Don't close yourself off from this new world because of the fact that it's simply new. Your mind is much too great for that. Share your thoughts and continue to try. If you lose that, you lose yourself," Aslan said calmly. "And right now, they all need you."

Annette slowly turned her back to Aslan, making her way to Margaret. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you before." She whispered. "I knew you were struggling with things. I should have helped you practice more. I could have been there when Kirian-"

Margaret shook her head, a smile plastered on her face. "Don't apologize. You were there without even knowing it." Quickly, the friend's gave each other a tight hug. When they released, and turned around to speak once more to Aslan, he was gone without even a goodbye. The girls exchanged knowing smiles. It didn't bother them at all.

~.~.~.~.~

Edmund, Glenstorm, a Giant, and Margaret all stood at the entrance of the How. No one stood outside except for them. If she squinted her eyes enough, she could see Telmarines talking behind their catapults on the other side. They were probably discussing why the four of them were standing there and what they would do. "Do you think they suppose we're surrendering?" Margaret asked casually to Glenstorm. The large Centaur shook his head.

"No. They know that's not why we've come out." He turned his face towards Edmund, who was now fully clad in his old Narnian armor. Margaret had smiled secretly to herself when she had seen him. He looked different, but much older in a way. He was charming, but she didn't care to admit that to him just yet. Especially when he kept pressing her to go back with the others. "I think we should go, Your Majesty." Glenstorm suggested.

Edmund nodded, tucking the scroll Peter wrote under his arm. Before stepping forward, he looked once more at Margaret. "You're sure you're coming?" Margaret nodded firmly. "You don't think it's best if you stay with the others?"

"I want to go with you." She could only stare at him and hoped he forgave her resentment, but his face was unreadable. He seemed like he was trying to get rid of her. It was her fault for making him feel uncomfortable, and she was going to undo what she did. She wasn't going to stay at the How, no matter what. "Okay," Edmund said with a sigh. "Let's go."

As they crossed the field, they remained silent. Margaret walked casually next to Edmund, her long skirt brushing up against the grass and the creatures that lived in it. The armor was hot on her body, but she liked the feeling of it. "I spoke with someone."

Edmund glanced over at her, a bit unsure of how to respond. "Can I ask who?" Margaret only gave him a prolonged stare. He knew right away. "What did he say?"

"He said that I needed to stop being afraid," Margaret replied. "He said I lost my creativity, and that I lost myself in the process. Once I was finally placed in a dream, I fell entirely asleep." She smiled. "Or something like that." Edmund said nothing, but squinted his eyes in the sunlight. She tried reading him once again, but his book was closed. She couldn't understand his mute expression at all. "Edmund, I'm sorry." He might have heard her, but he said nothing in response. She would support him later that day, but for now, things would have to continue to be rough.

"Are you here for surrender?" A voice suddenly asked, taking no one but Margaret by surprise. She looked up to see a curly haired, soft-faced General looking back at them. He looked different from the rest, but she couldn't tell why.

"I'm here to issue a rule of Telmarine traditions to King Miraz from Narnia's High King Peter." Edmund said simply.

"And who may I ask, is presenting?"

"King Edmund, the Just."

The man blinked in confusion. "You are not the King."

"No, I am," Edmund said quickly. "I'm just not the High King." The man looked at Edmund with a blank expression. "I'm sorry," Edmund mumbled. "I understand it's quite confusing."

"Come," The man muttered, waving his hand at them. "Miraz will speak with you at the base." He led them into the woods. It was not too long until they could see the men getting ready for battle. Margaret wondered how long they had been camping out there, but thinking about it only made her more nervous. "He's in there." The man said calmly. "Present yourself first. Then read. Don't push your limits either," He mumbled. "Miraz is not entirely forgiving today."

"What about them?" Edmund asked, glancing back at the rest of the party.

The man looked them up and down. His eyes stopped for a moment on Margaret, before growing wide. "I did not realize there was a lady in your party."

Edmund nodded. "Yes. The finest swordswoman we have." Margaret wanted to gasp at the profound lie he had just told, but she held her tongue. Giving herself away would not be of any use. However, if the General would have battled her to a duel, her death would be on Edmund's hands.

"They can wait outside. We only need one of you." He began to walk towards Miraz, but when he noticed Edmund was not following he stopped in his tracks. "Have you changed your mind, then?"

Edmund shook his head, gripping the scroll tightly in his fingers. "If I'm going to read this, then she must come with me." His eyes met Margaret's, and not quickly this time. He continued to stare at her, his eyes a bit softer now until the General spoke once again.

"If she must come, let her come quickly." He motioned for the both of them to follow, leading them to Miraz and many other war Lords. They sat at a long table, each one of them with grins on their faces as if they'd already won. "King Edmund, with a proclamation for you, Your Majesty."

Edmund slowly sauntered forward, a bemused grin on his face. The scroll was held tightly in his hands, waiting for permission to be read.

"_King?_" Miraz suddenly asked, raising his brows. He and his friends exchanged amused glances. His eyes then redirected towards Margaret, who was standing in the back quietly. "Who is this?" Edmund slowly turned his head around, already knowing where his gaze was directed. When Margaret gave no answer, Edmund spoke up.

"The finest swordswoman in our army." He said proudly. "That's off little importance, as I hope she won't be needed." Margaret smirked to herself. Having an invented title to flaunt wasn't so bad after all. "I'm here on behalf of High King Peter, issuing a proclamation for you." Miraz's black eyes bore holes into Edmund's face. "In that case," Edmund said with a smile. "I'll begin reading." Quickly, he dropped the scroll, unraveling it smoothly. He scooped up the end in his hands, and began to read. "I, Peter, by the gift of Aslan, by election and by conquest, High King of Narnia, Lord of Cair Paravel and Emperor of the Lone Islands, in order to prevent the abominable effusion of blood, do hereby challenge the usurper Miraz to single combat upon the field of battle. The fight shall be to the death. The reward shall be total surrender." Edmund calmly dropped his paper, rolling it back up nicely in his hands.

Miraz sat, bewildered. He watched Edmund's calm nature, surprised by how unaffected he was of the army standing right outside the How. "Tell me, Prince Edmund-"

"King." Edmund said, locking eyes. After a moment of silence, Edmund continued to roll up his scroll.

"Pardon me?" Miraz spat, cocking his head to the side in unhidden annoyance.

"It's _King_Edmund, actually." He said lightly. "Just King, though," His eyes darted about at the men as though to reassure them they were not up against anything too dangerous. Margaret tried to suppress her laughter, but almost failed if she had not dropped her eyes and coughed loudly. "Peter's the High King." Miraz remained silent. "I know, it's confusing."

"Why would we risk such a proposal when our armies could wipe you out by nightfall?" Miraz said slowly, curiosity getting the better of him. Margaret had wondered the same thing, but she remained silent.

Edmund looked at him, as though to make sure what Miraz had said was really being asked. After no one spoke, he snorted a bit in amusement, looking around the room. "Haven't you already underestimated our numbers? I mean, only a week ago… Narnians were extinct."

Margaret knew she should have been listening to the conversation, especially an important one like this. However, she couldn't help but find amusement in the difference in pitch between Edmund's voice, and Miraz's. Edmund was younger but nobler. Miraz was nothing but a greedy, old man who didn't know the first thing about ruling. Little did he know that Edmund was technically thousands of years _older_. She decided not to point that out at the moment. It didn't seem convenient.

"And so you will be again." Miraz growled, snapping Margaret back to reality.

Edmund looked at him for a moment in disbelief. Margaret could tell by the look on his face that he wanted to curse Miraz right then and there, but, being the more mature, Edmund rolled his eyes and spoke calmly. "Well, then you should have little to fear."

Miraz instantly belted out a laugh, causing most of the men to jump. "This is not a question of bravery!"

"So you're _bravely_ refusing to fight a swordsman half your age?" Edmund grinned at this observation. Margaret let out a chuckle, unable to suppress that much. Miraz shot her a warning look, before leaning across the table to Edmund.

"I didn't say I refused."

A man from down the table shrugged, as though none of it were a big deal. "You shall have our support, Your Majesty. _Whatever_ your decision."

"In my opinion," Margaret spoke up. "I think it might be nice for not only you and us, but also your men. That way their King can show his loyalty, no? It will give them a boost of encouragement." Edmund smiled back at her, pleased with her persuasion. "No one likes to fight for a King who won't fight for himself."

"I did not realize," Miraz said slowly. "That your tongue would be as sharp as your sword."

Margaret raised her brows. "Oh, I guarantee you, it's not."

"Sire," Another man said interrupting Margaret and capturing Miraz's attention before he grew even more angry. "Our military advantage alone provides the perfect excuse to avoid what might otherwise be-"

Miraz furiously shoved back his chair, a loud metal sound ringing in everyone's ears. He pulled out his sword in anger, flashing his black eyes to the man speaking. "I am _not_ avoiding _anything_!" He shouted through clenched teeth.

"I was merely pointing out that my Lord is well within his rights to refuse." The man said hesitantly.

The man next to Margaret spoke up finally, his head held high. "His majesty would never refuse." It was as though the man were making the decision for Miraz, instead of Miraz making one for himself. Margaret stared up at the General who had just spoken. Surprisingly, after a moment he looked back down at her. She wanted to look away in discomfort, but found a secret buried in his gaze. He was telling her something with that sentence. Miraz wasn't fit to even make decisions for himself. He wasn't fit at all to make decisions for his country. And the man knew it. "He relishes the chance to show the people the _courage_ of their new King." Margaret wanted to laugh once again. This man had such obviously little pride for his King that it would offend everyone so much, if only they had noticed like she had. She wondered in the back of her mind who this man was and just what side he was fighting on.

"You…" Miraz was a bit calmer now as he pointed his sword at Edmund. "You should hope your brother's sword is sharper than his pen."

Edmund said nothing, a long hopeful smile planted across his face. He nodded politely before turning his back away to face Margaret. "I guess that means things are done here." Gently, he handed the General the scroll before coming out from underneath the tent. When he and Margaret headed back towards the others, Edmund couldn't keep his excitement hidden. "He was absolutely terrified!" He laughed, the sound of it causing Margaret to instantly smile. "I thought originally it would have been much more difficult than that, but I guess not."

"No." Margaret stopped, waiting for Edmund to notice. Once he realized she wasn't next to him, he spun around with surprise. Slowly, he walked back over to her with a curious look on his face. "No, it wasn't difficult. Thanks to you. Peter would be proud of you."

Margaret could feel her heart pushing up against her ribs, beating so fast that it almost hurt. She thought she might have to gasp in a moment for air, but she managed to contain it long enough for Edmund to speak again. "Thanks," He said mutely. "I was surprised that I managed to do so."

"I wasn't." Margaret said quickly, taking a step closer to him. "We all knew you had it in you." The space between them was little and the Telmarines around them would toss a look or two in their direction every now and then. Margaret and Edmund didn't move a muscle. It was the closest they'd been since the kiss. The tension was still there for both of them, but neither of them seemed upset.

"After we…" Edmund started, before he stopped himself with a sigh. "You left." Margaret's eyes grew a bit wider. His tone was different now, not strong like a moment ago. His words echoed disappointment and confusion, but hurt above all else. "I went looking for you, but you-"

"I know." Margaret mumbled, hanging her head. "I'm sorry, Edmund." She glanced back up at him. His pained expression caused her to look away. "I'm not as strong as you want me to be. I'm not as strong as _I_want to be, but… I'm working on it."

Edmund managed to offer her a small smile, nudging her lightly. "Don't try too much." He mumbled. "I already think you're pretty alright. You know, for a girl who can't pick up a sword."

Margaret gasped, unable to hold back her smile. "Oh, is that what this is about? You like big, strong women? Women like Rudy Kay?"

"What?" Edmund laughed as they began to walk back to the others. "Who is that?"

"The Canadian wrestler!" Margaret laughed. "What, you've never heard of him? Oh, well. You already said it yourself." The two of them laughed for a while longer, just enjoying the sound of it before they knew it would be replaced with metal against metal.

Margaret could have reached out and grabbed his hand if she felt like it. She had to be open to new things, and new people, like Aslan had mentioned. Closing herself off for a reason from the past was now an ancient idea to her. He was different from the other boys, and she could only hope he'd stay that way. For the time being, she would push those thoughts aside. There were more important things on her mind.

She had to learn how to fight.

~.~.~.~

**Rudy Kay was a famous body builder in the 1940s, by the way. XD I'm not sure why it was needed in this chapter, exactly, but I felt like tossing it in there. At least the time period is accurate. So. Enjoy that. :3 And REVIEW.**


	18. Preparations

**Rudy Kay… very interesting MistroStrings :D**

**I hope everyone has as much fun reading this as MistroStrings and I do writing it. It's like suddenly transporting into Narnia, which is never a bad thing, now, is it?**

**Enjoy your visit!**

**~MisticLight**

**P.S. Sorry this took so long! School is finishing up and teachers are giving everyone a bunch of busy work on top of exams. So I will make this obnoxiously long as well in order to apologize ;)**

~.~.~.~.

Annette's mind buzzed with every thought imaginable after her encounter with Aslan. But one thing continuously reverberated throughout her mind: _There is a hidden strength within you, Annette._ She knew the mighty Lion was right. The trouble was that she didn't know where that strength was. It was locked up somewhere, hidden deep within her. She'd misplaced the key at some point, but Annette wouldn't stop searching for it. She believed those doors would open one day with every fiber of her being.

Ever since Margaret left to go deal with Miraz, Annette's anxiety had picked up. Even though the meeting had now ended and the duel accepted, she still found herself uneasy. Worries of her friends and the fate of the land she'd grown to love crept up on her. As a result, Annette started walking. She didn't know where she was going, she just trusted her feet would get her there… wherever that was. Walking had always been a great treasure to her. It allowed her mind to drift away from the worries at hand and focus on more important, less fearful matters. Matters such as Aslan.

_Aslan_. The mere thought of him drove all Annette's fears away, replacing them with a smile. She still couldn't believe he appeared just to speak with her and Margaret. Aslan was _actually_ thinking about them, such as he does with Caspian and the Pevensies. A sudden sense of belonging engulfed Annette. More than ever before, she sensed she and Margaret came to Narnia for a reason. But that reason, Annette knew, would remain hidden until she found some way of finding this hidden strength. But how? For once, her mind was blank.

As Annette's focus drifted away from her now empty mind, she became more aware of where she actually was. Despite knowing basically every inch of the How, her feet managed to lead her into an unfamiliar room. Inside the small area were two unkempt beds on either side of the wall. The room was very similar to Annette and Margaret's, the only difference being organization. Margaret detested when things were disordered, so their room remained pretty clean.

Annette knocked on the stone wall. "Hello?" No reply. Curiosity drove her farther in. She didn't mean to invade anyone's privacy, but not knowing this place was driving her insane.

She had only wandered a few hesitant paces into the seemingly empty bedchamber when a sword flung itself at her face. Acting upon instinct, Annette ducked down and rolled out of the blade's path. She didn't waste any time in pushing herself off the ground and drawing her dagger; the same dagger Caspian had given her the night they took the Telmarine weapons.

Her eyes scanned the silent chamber. Even in Narnia, swords didn't magically appear out of thin air. However, the room remained still. Annette tried to look threatening by steadily holding out her dagger, but her mystified face was giving her away. "Show yourself before I… before I kill you… or something." As soon as her jumbled words fell out of her mouth, a low, husky laughter started up from inside a hidden alcove next to the door. Annette swung her dagger to the right so it was pointing directly at the mysterious laughter. "Well you can come out now. I know you're there."

Unable to contain his amusement any longer, a chuckling Peter emerged from his hiding place. Annette's once puzzled face transformed into one full of spite. Upon seeing this, Peter began to laugh even louder. "Sorry Annette." He chuckled, not seeming to mean the _'sorry'_ bit. "You looked a bit distracted, so I seized the opportunity."

Annette found no amusement in this joke. So instead of putting her dagger away, she tightened her grip upon it and brought its point closer to his face. "Why are you _laughing_? Don't you realize you could have killed me with that little joke of yours?" Her eyes narrowed, making Peter's smile grow even wider.

He battered the dagger away as if it were just a toy. But Annette wasn't quite ready to forgive Peter, so she pointed the weapon back at his face. The humor never left Peter's eyes as he frowned down at the weapon. "Stop taking things so seriously! It was just a sword case." Annette's eyes quickly jumped to the red leather in his hands. Since the 'attack' had happened so quickly, her brain just automatically assumed it was a sword _without_ its casing. "Besides, if you didn't dodge it, you'd only get a quick throbbing to the head."

"Would it still be funny then?" She questioned, humor making its way into her voice.

"Yes!" Peter beamed, causing Annette to roll her eyes and finally tuck away her dagger. After seeing that it was properly in its case, she lifted her eyes and noticed Peter's new attire. Silver armor covered him from nearly head to toe. In the center of his dark read tunic stood a golden lion, proudly standing upon its hind feet. Clearly this was supposed to resemble Aslan. The Lion's stance matched that of the one imprinted on the shield, which rested on the floor next to his helmet and vambraces. The only difference between the two Lions were the colors, the one on the shield being red instead of gold.

"Any particular reason as to why you're snooping around mine and Edmund's room?" Peter asked, drawing Annette's attention away from the shiny metal on the floor.

"I wasn't _snooping_." She defended as she crossed the room to get away from him. "I was merely walking around and stumbled inside."

"Really? Because it certainly doesn't look that way." He mocked, raising an eyebrow. He was hoping to trip up Annette, thereby pulling another trick on her.

"Really." Annette crossed her arms and leaned back on her right foot. Unlucky for Peter, she knew what he was up to. "That is, if you could even call this pigsty a room."

"Oh please, it's clean enough." He snorted with a wave of his hand before reaching down to retrieve his vambraces. He looked from the silver arm plates to Annette. "Since you're here, would you mind…?" He shook one of metal plates towards her.

"I suppose!" Annette said, rolling her eyes. She hopped over a small heap of clothes in the middle of the room. "Clean enough, you say?" She raised her brow and gestured towards the small pile.

"Oh, shut up." Peter grumbled as he slapped a vambrace onto his left arm.

Smiling to herself, Annette tightly fastened the two straps on. Once finished, she positioned the metal onto his other arm, but hesitated before finishing. This was the armor Peter would wear for the duel; the duel resulting in death. She knew she _definitely_ didn't start off on the right foot with Peter. In fact, it seemed as though all of their conversations required a glare to be shot towards the other. But she still didn't want to see him die.

"Well go on, we haven't got all day!" Peter cheerfully complained, snapping Annette out of her trance.

"Are you frightened?" She meekly asked, changing the mood of the once cheerful room. She didn't dare look back up at Peter for fear that his expression would give her more of a reason to worry. So instead, she focused all her attention on attaching the last vambrace.

Peter remained silent, making her feel uneasy as she finished strapping. He carefully thought over each word before speaking them to the already anxious Annette. "Not as much as you would expect." He paused for a moment, his mind going over battle strategies and all of their possible outcomes. "I'm more anxious about what will happen afterwards."

Annette's heart skipped a beat. "After?" She had never thought that far. She just assumed everyone would follow the rules. Then again, that never happened back home either.

Peter nodded. "I don't exactly trust the Telmarines to keep their word if we prevail. For this reason, I'm placing Glenstorm, Edmund, one of the Bulgy Bears, and Caspian as marshals to the duel. If they try to pull anything on us, we'll have some strong fighters at the front."

"But the catapults! What are we to do if they start using those?" The question had barely left Annette's mouth when another question began spilling out. "What will Margaret and I do?"

"Both of you will be outside the How with half of the army." He chuckled before becoming serious once again. "As for the catapults… be prepared. If it comes to it, Caspian and Glenstorm will command the other half of the army, positioned under the How, to break the ground right under the Telmarines' feet."

Her eyes widened. "But wouldn't the ground fall on the Narnians?"

"Not if you're there to slow them down." Peter smugly smiled. Annette glowered towards him, but didn't object. As long as there was a backup plan, her mind would be at ease… for the time being.

"Speaking of Caspian…" She shifted her eyes to the floor as a sudden wave of nerves washed over her. "Do you know where he is? I'd like to speak with him before all this happens."

"Of course you would." Peter snorted as he crossed his arms.

Her head snapped up with a glare. "And what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." He innocently lifted his hands, his face filling with humor. "It's just that you two-"

"Your Majesty?" Annette looked to her left just as Trumpkin peeked into the room. "It's almost two hours after noon. Are you about finished?"

Peter leaned forward to better see the Dwarf. "Just a few moments more."

"Whistles and whirligigs! Stubborn as usual." He grumbled to someone at his side. Annette smiled when Reepicheep appeared in the doorway. She hadn't seen much of him since the raid, and quite missed the mouse's company.

"But Sire, we mustn't keep the Telmarines waiting! They must be the ones to keep _us_ waiting; further proving our desire to fight."

"Alright, Reep, I'll finish up." Peter lifted his gaze up towards Annette. "You can go with them." Annette nodded, deciding to ignore the commanding tone that had entered his voice.

Peter smiled at them before gazing down at his sword. Annette knew he was acting braver than what he actually was. He didn't want to worry the three of them. Even when it was just her and Peter, he forced his concerns out of his mind. Peter deserved some alone time so he could let his anxiety out. Without another word, Annette led Trumpkin and Reepicheep back down the hallway.

~.~.~.~.

"Would you stop doing that?" Trumpkin droned as Annette looked over her shoulder for the eighth time.

"Do you suppose he'll be alright?" Her voice dripped with concern. She was already beginning to regret her decision to leave Peter. What if he didn't need to be alone? What if all he really needed was a friend? Annette looked down at the Dwarf with distressed eyes.

Trumpkin opened his mouth to answer with one of his sarcastic remarks, but thought better of it. Being caustic wasn't going to get him anywhere. It would only result in Annette regretting her decision even more, and he _definitely _didn't want to see what an extra worried Annette was like.

Reepicheep, on the other hand, vanquished the stillness. "Of course he will!" Annette spun her head to the left to look at the Mouse's confident eyes. "He _is_ a King of Narnia."

"That he is, Reep." She replied, forcing a smile. She still wasn't satisfied with her choice, but decided to push those taunting thoughts to the side. In order to distract herself, she formed her wavy brown hair into a ponytail. Her bangs couldn't quite reach the tie, so she neatly tucked them behind her ears.

There was a small pause amongst the three as they walked through the How's hallway. Annette's ears quickly picked up on the difference between their steps. Trumpkin's footsteps were surprisingly the loudest of them all. Each stride sounded like a hammer retracting off of stone. However, they came at a faster pace than what Annette's light feet did. And Reepicheep, when he chose to walk on all fours, sounded like small raindrops pounding off the tops of houses.

"Did you know them?" Reepicheep suddenly asked in the voiceless silence.

"Hmm?" She responded in a daze, having been pulled from the music styling's of their footsteps.

"The Kings and Queens! Did you know them?" He excitedly squeaked. Trumpkin huffed with annoyance, but tilted his head a little closer towards Annette. Although he didn't want to admit it, Trumpkin liked the Pevensies and was very interested to hear what she had to say.

"A little." Annette smiled at both Reepicheep and Trumpkin. Her mind raced back to the train station in England. "Margaret and I had just met Edmund and Peter before coming here. We hadn't formally met Susan and Lucy, but they were probably in the crowd somewhere…" She trailed off as she tried to remember the throng of cheering students.

"A crowd?" Reepicheep inquired. "Are they Kings and Queens back in your world too?"

Annette couldn't contain her laughter. She continued her giggles despite the perplexed expressions of her companions. The Pevensies? Royalty in England? That was rich. "Let's just say they still have fighting spirit." She managed to say between her laughs.

"Magic can't kill the fighter within." Reepicheep proudly beamed. "Especially a _Narnian_ fighter."

"Apparently so," Annette smirked at the mouse. She loved all the pride he carried within his small body. He was an inspiration to all the Narnians, lifting their hopes in even the darkest of times. She silently thanked him for that. "But you can only imagine the shock Margaret and I received when we found that we weren't the only ones to travel into Narnia."

"Which brings us to another point," Trumpkin finally grumbled into the conversation. "Why are you even here?" He didn't mean for the question to sound offensive in any way. He was just the one to ask what everyone else had on their minds.

"I'm not quite sure," Annette smiled to herself as the memory of Aslan became more potent. Her eyes glistened with hope. "I'm sure it's something of great importance to Narnia."

"And who put _that_ into your head?" The Dwarf snorted. "_Aslan?_" Now it was the dwarf's turn to laugh alone. Annette uneasily twiddled her fingers. Trumpkin didn't know how right he was.

"Do you doubt the great Lion?" Reepicheep spat at him, his paw resting on the hilt of his sword.

"Thimbles and thunderstorms, Reepicheep! You can't possibly believe in him! You've never even seen him."

"I believe wholeheartedly." Trumpkin merely rolled his eyes at the creature. Annoyed with his attitude, Reepicheep trotted behind Annette to place himself closer to the Dwarf. He drew his sword in order to look more threatening. "Then tell me, _Dwarf_, what are you here for if not Aslan?"

"I fight for our home and freedom." Trumpkin spoke without a second glance at Reepicheep's menacing sword. "Not for something that doesn't even exist."

Reepicheep twitched his tail as if ready to pounce on the dwarf, but Annette spoke before any fighting broke out. "Lucy believes he exists!"

That shut the Dwarf up. His face became softer as he stared down at the soot in front of him. His thoughts filled with his dear little friend's mission. "They should be leaving soon." Trumpkin murmured. It was odd for Annette to see the angry Dwarf show signs of sorrow.

"Aslan will watch over them," She comforted him. "Just as he watches over us all."

"Even if they doubt his existence…" Reepicheep mumbled from behind the pack. His comment was ignored.

"How can you be so sure?" Trumpkin asked, lifting his head. "You of all people should realize that his existence isn't logical. You're not even a Narnian."

She lightly shook her head. "I can't be sure. You just have to trust in Aslan. His powers will take care of the rest." She smiled down at the Dwarf. If only he knew what she and Margaret had seen hours before their walk.

"I would listen to her." Reepicheep called as he scurried between the two of them. His sword was now tucked into its casing. "She's as wise as one of the Queens."

"Thanks, Reep." Annette giggled as a blush began forming from the compliment. It's not every day a Mouse praises someone. "But I doubt that's true."

"You doubt Aslan, and you doubt the truth. I, for one, will keep my faith in both and doubt nothing." He smirked at his oath.

"Well! Aren't you just an egg in moonshine." Trumpkin raised an eyebrow, his monotone sarcasm returning to his voice.

Reepicheep paused in a stiff stance. Annette and Trumpkin walked right past him, knowing that he'd eventually catch up. Which he did… just with a bit of spite left in him. "First you insult the mighty Aslan, and now you insult my pride." He rapidly redrew his sword. "You will pay greatly for those words, Dwarf."

Trumpkin, mouth slightly ajar, stared at the mouse in disbelief. He clicked his tongue when Reepicheep's glare didn't fade. "I don't think so."

"Don't test him, Trumpkin." Annette scolded. "He's jabbed Margaret with that sword of his for lesser reasons."

"I'll take my chances." He replied with a soft smug, drawing his own sword.

"You've had this coming for some time now!" Reepicheep yelled before charging at the Dwarf. However, before the creature's swords even came close to colliding, the clash of metal erupted throughout the hallway.

Trumpkin instantly lowered his weapon. "I wonder what _that_ could be." As he puzzled over the noise, Reepicheep continued his onslaught. He'd never been one to back away from a fight. If the enemy got distracted, Reepicheep just took that as a lucky opportunity.

"Woah! Reepicheep! Stop!" Annette shouted as she blocked his charge.

"This doesn't concern you!" He puffed, stopping just as Annette had planned. "Why would you come between me and the opponent?"

"Because..." She shrugged with a smile on her face. "I knew you wouldn't stop unless someone unrelated crossed your path. Your honor betrays you, noble knight." Reepicheep dropped his ears, regretting having to abandon a fight. Satisfied with Reepicheep, Annette spun around to lecture the Dwarf. "Trumpkin, don't you know that you're supposed to keep your eye on your opponent the _entire_ time?" She couldn't hold back a smile from breaking across her face. Caspian had taught her that.

"Yes… I _am_ an experienced swordsman." He spoke matter-of-factly. Annette just rolled her eyes and let him continue. "I was just curious about the racket."

As if on cue, the sound of metal-on-metal exploded once more. Margaret's voice quickly followed, but her face was not visible to her friends down the hall. "Edmund, I'm not entirely sure _now_ is the best time for this."

"Nonsense!" Edmund's voice replied. "What better time to teach you how to fight then right before a battle?" There was a pause as Margaret couldn't think of anything to say back. "Besides, all we've been doing is sitting around, waiting for an order of some sort."

Margaret sighed. "Just once, Edmund, I wish you'd be wrong."

"Doesn't everybody?" His laugh bellowed throughout the hallway, almost covering up Margaret's small chuckle. "Now come on, Margaret! Pick up your sword!" Margaret groaned, but she must have done what she was told because the sound of two swords clashing quickly followed.

Smiling, Annette followed the voices of her friends. Trumpkin and Reepicheep followed closely behind, sporadically shooting dirty glares at one another. Annette led the way down another hallway and into the Stone Table room. Standing in front of the historic table, where the vile circle had been drawn around Caspian, fought Margaret and Edmund. Edmund had perfect posture with his feet slightly shuffling back and forth. He was ready for anything Margaret thrust at him. Margaret wasn't as prepared. She tried to mimic Edmund's foot shuffle, but her feet weren't properly responding to what she wanted. They didn't have the lightness Edmund carried.

"Let's watch." Annette excitedly whispered to Trumpkin and Reepicheep. "Don't be too loud. Margaret probably doesn't want an audience." The two creatures nodded before shooting a glare towards the other once more. Annette rolled her eyes before proceeding onto the steps in front of the majestic picture of Aslan. Margaret was too focused on not failing to even notice the three new audience members. Edmund, however, quickly flashed a smile at them before blocking Margaret's swing. Her sword fell directly onto the floor.

"I don't understand what I'm doing wrong!" She complained without lifting her blade.

"You're being too hard on yourself, Margaret." Edmund advised with a smile. "Stop thinking that you're not good. You've got plenty of talent inside you."

Margaret looked down at her feet to hide the color arising in her cheeks. She wished her ponytail wasn't as tight. Loose hair could have covered her embarassed face more. "Too bad I can't find the talent you claim I have."

"Being negative is only half the reason!" Reepicheep suddenly proclaimed, scurrying up to Margaret and Edmund.

Annette covered her face with her hands. _So much for being quiet._ She should have known Reepicheep couldn't stay out of a sword practice for long. Peeking between her fingers, she wasn't too surprised to see Margaret's bewildered and heated gaze staring back at her. Annette sheepishly smiled and slowly waved back at her friend. _Oops._

"Did you see something, Reep?" Edmund asked, trying to make Margaret focus on her lessons again.

"Only that she's flopping her arms around!" Reepicheep took his blade out and attempted to mimic what he saw. "How do you expect to fight like that? Someone could cut your arm off!"

Margaret's eyes widened and she quickly pulled her elbows into her sides. Edmund laughed. "We don't want that, do we?"

"Definitely not." She quickly shook her head.

"Good!" Reepicheep beamed, climbing up onto the steps leading to the Stone Table. "Now, keeping that in mind, try again."

Margaret gulped, but lifted her sword into the ready stance. Edmund lifted his brows as if silently asking if she was ready. She nodded and waited for him to start. He began swinging his sword towards Margaret's right hip. She easily side-stepped away from the attack and slowly swung her tilted sword at Edmund's arm. She wasn't worried that her blade would cut him because of all the armor he was wearing. Edmund wasn't worried because her skills were still not good enough.

Of course he wouldn't tell her that.

Edmund, with a smile on his face, dragged his arm to the right. He made a full circle around Margaret's arm and tapped his blade on her shoulder. "Hey!" She playfully glared at her opponent.

Annette laughed on the sidelines. "Oh come on, Margaret. I _know_ you're faster than that."

Margaret smiled at Annette through the corners of her eyes. With new momentum filling inside her, she rapidly swung at Edmund. She was pushing him back, but just as she was about to take a swing at him she tripped on her own feet.

"I see balance is an issue with this one." Trumpkin loudly stated. Margaret ignored the Dwarf's comment and continued her mock duel.

"Everyone has their clumsy moments, Trumpkin." Annette retorted, defending her friend.

"I don't…" He claimed before heading over to stand with Reepicheep, just as interested in Margaret's progression.

Annette leaned forward and rested her head in her hands. Trumpkin _had_ made a mistake when he looked away from Reepicheep. Everyone knows you can't stop the feisty mouse when he's in dueling mode. Besides that, you shouldn't look away from your opponent. A smile crawled onto Annette's face again as certain memories came flooding back.

She tried to watch Margaret train. She'd even offer some encouraging words here and there, but these words were fading as her mind started to trail off. With every passing second, the duel between Miraz and Peter was coming closer-a duel ultimately leading to a full scale battle—and Annette still hadn't spoken to Caspian. She twisted her hair between her fingers, debating on whether to stay and support her friend, or leave and possibly miss out on Margaret doing something amazing.

As Annette internally battled with herself, Margaret was having the time of her life. She had three friends coaching her while a fourth offered support from the sidelines. Compared to the last duel she had, Margaret felt completely relaxed. Peter was very arrogant at the time and had distracted Margaret. She had wanted to win in order to prove she was something, but had failed. Now she was just fighting Edmund; sweet, funny, kind Edmund who wouldn't mockingly laugh at her when she messed up.

And he wasn't going easy on her like he said he would. Margaret could tell he was at first, but then he suddenly picked up energy and became a spectacular swordsman. Although Edmund wasn't using _all_ of his skills, he was definitely using most without telling her. This way, Margaret could easily adjust to fighting one of the talented Telmarines.

As if sensing this, Margaret rushed her sword at him. She aimed straight at his left shoulder, but Edmund quickly caught on and lifted his blade up. They were at a standstill until Margaret got the brilliant idea of kicking Edmund's unprotected shin. His strength immediately faltered and she was able to force his blade to the ground. She then placed her sword close, but not threateningly, to Edmund's neck. A wide smile crossed her face. "Have I actually won?!"

Trumpkin laughed from behind her. "I knew she had something gratuitous in her."

"Be quiet, Trumpkin!" Reepicheep spat. "She just knows how to think on her feet, as a true warrior always does."

Margaret smiled at the Mouse before turning back to Edmund. "Thank you, Reep." Though she was pleased with defeat, her face fell when she saw the pain Edmund was trying to cover up. She didn't think she kicked him _that_ hard.

"Margaret, I'm smiling. Trust me." Edmund truly gave his best effort to force a smile he wanted so badly to be seen "See?"

The smile returned to her lips as she offered her hand towards him. "Don't strain yourself." She whirled around to face her friend who was still lost in thought on the stairs. "Annette, did you see? I did it!"

Margaret's excited voice brought a smile to Annette's face. "Good job, Margaret." She began walking over to her. "I'm proud of you." Annette embraced her friend before abruptly walking out of the room.

Edmund watched her leave, puzzled by her strange actions. "What's she doing?"

"Don't worry about it." Margaret smiled, guessing as to what she was up to. "Her heart is in the right place."

Edmund's head fell to his shoulder in confusion. "What are you talking about? How do you know?"

"Never mind that." She waved her hand at him before picking up her sword. "Shall I beat you again? Or, are you still too sore to loose once more?"

"In your dreams!" Edmund said, raising his sword. He was preparing for Margaret's next lesson: being _too _confident.

~.~.~.~.

Annette didn't know why she was heading towards the stables. She always went there when she wanted to think. The horses were always peaceful, making Annette absorb their calming manor. She had also been quite fond of horses back in England, so visiting them wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. Except things were different. She almost felt as though she were being _pulled _into the room.

Oddly enough, right when she entered the stables, Annette noticed she wasn't alone.

"Caspian?" She called out towards the forlorn looking boy. He was gazing at the only exit on that side of the How. Susan's horn was resting in his hands. His head immediately snapped up when he heard his name, and he rushed over once he realized it was Annette. There was something about his face that worried her. He looked troubled, as if some heavy burden rested on his shoulders. "Caspian, is something wrong?"

Without warning, he grabbed Annette's hand with both of his. His guilt-filled brown eyes stared right into her bewildered green ones. "Don't ever change."

Annette, her heart beginning to pound, looked from his surreal gaze to their clasped fingers. "I'm sorry, but I don't understand what you're-"

"Promise me," Caspian said, tenderly squeezing her hand. "No matter what happens, you will keep your heart and mind where it is." His eyes dropped to her shaking palms. "I fear the world will become less bright if you do not."

She was silent as his words flowed through her ears and straight into her heart. "I promise." She gently replied. When Caspian lifted his head, Annette reassured him with a soft smile.

"Good." He smiled back, relief filling his face. Although Caspian was trying his best to cover it up, Annette could still see the strain of guilt lingering behind his eyes.

Her voice held concern when she finally spoke again. "Caspian, is everything alright? You seem a bit… odd."

"Everything is…" Caspian paused to look down at their hands once more. "Perfect."

The concern melted right off Annette's face. She didn't know what brought this sudden guilt onto Caspian or why his only source of redemption was through her, but she wasn't necessarily confused by it. Some part of her mind, strangely enough, was able to understand him.

She slowly placed her other hand atop Caspian's. Confused by it, he raised his head and gazed at Annette until a blush started to fill her cheeks. A boy had never looked at her in that way. Her only reaction was too look away. She hadn't realized how close they were to each other. Annette felt his eyes studying her, waiting for when she'd lift her head back up. When she didn't, Caspian coughed uncomfortably and quickly broke their connection. "What brings you to the stables?" He asked after a short pause.

Annette couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief at the breaking of their bond. But, somewhere beneath her sigh was a bitter sorrow. His hand had been soft in hers, a new experience that she was becoming fond of. "Well, I usually come here when I want to think… Destrier is my favorite horse, you know." She flashed a smile before darting her eyes towards the stalls. "But I don't see him anywhere…"

"Susan and Lucy are riding him to find Aslan." Caspian said, causing Annette's eyes to flutter back to him. They doubled in size as a thought came across her mind.

"Does Aslan walk fast?"

"I have no idea." Caspian laughed, completely caught off guard with Annette's question. "What put that into your head?"

"I don't know..." She mumbled. Her nervous habit returned as she began to fiddle with her hair once more. "Maybe it's because I saw him a few hours ago."

His laughter immediately stopped, as did every nerve in his face. "You… _saw_ him?" Annette answered his baffled question with a simplistic nod. Caspian stared wide eyed at her before pulling himself out of his thoughts. "Why did you not bring him here?"

"Probably because I was too surprised with his visit!" She nudged him with a smile. "Besides, he vanished once he was finished speaking."

"Oh. That makes sense." Caspian, slightly embarrassed, rubbed the back of his neck. "Did he tell you anything?"

"Well, yes…" Now it was Annette's turn to be flustered. She didn't know if she was supposed to tell others about what Aslan said to her. But when she moved towards Caspian to tell him it was too personal, she found herself cut short. The words spilled out before she could stop herself. "He said I have strength hidden within me. A strength that I'll never find unless I first believe in myself." She briefly focused her eyes away from Caspian. "… I just don't know if I can. I don't even know how."

"I think you can." He replied without a moment's hesitation. "In fact, I _know_ you can."

"How can you be so sure?" Annette searched his face for any sign of doubt he had for her. She was surprised when she couldn't find any.

"Even if you do not believe you have strength, I do." Caspian searched his brain for some way to make Annette find hope inside of herself.

Annette watched his face in silence. She knew he wanted to say something, but was unable to find the right words. Just as she was about to thank Caspian for his support and walk off, a look of terror suddenly crossed his face. "Caspian?" She cautiously asked.

Caspian didn't reply. Instead he looked back at the exit of the stables. "Take my place as marshal at the duel."

"What?" Annette asked, suddenly unable to breath.

"Take my place as marshal." He repeated himself, this time facing Annette. She could see he wasn't kidding.

"No." She shook her head. "No, Caspian, I can't. I'm not strong enough. There's no way I'd be able to-"

"Annette!" Caspian cut her off, placing his hands on both sides of her arms. He softened his voice before continuing. "I believe in you."

This time she couldn't protest. There was something in his voice that made convinced her that she could do it. Something about the way his eyes stared deeply into hers. He trusted her just as she trusted him. Why? He had never given her any reason not to. She took a deep breath and nodded "I'll do it."

Caspian smiled down at her, setting butterflies loose in her stomach. His gaze then turned to the exit again. "I have to go." He looked back at Annette as if checking to make sure she was fine with him leaving. "I have to take care of something."

"I understand." She grinned before wrapping her arms around him. Even though she didn't know what Caspian had going on in his head, she trusted whatever he was doing. He hugged her back as Annette rested her head on his chest. They held this embrace for a while, feeling completely safe with one another. But Annette knew Caspian had to do his unmentioned mission, so she pulled away and looked straight into his eyes. "Be careful, alright?"

He nodded before walking away from her. She stood there, watching him go, before deciding it would be better if she found Glenstorm and informed him of the marshal switch. She spun on her heels and walked in the opposite direction. Her heart wouldn't stop its relentless beating as she rounded the corner.

"Annette, wait!" Caspian's voice quickly echoed after her. She paused, unsure of what he was forgetting.

He quickly rounded the corner, but stopped when he saw Annette. He stared at her as if it were the last time he'd ever hold her gaze. Annette took a step towards him just as he sealed the remaining gap. She eyed him with curiosity, but didn't say anything, waiting for Caspian to say whatever it was he came back for.

Except it wasn't anything spoken Caspian wished to tell her. He cupped Annette's face in his hands and brought her lips to his. Annette placed her hands on his chest in order to steady herself from his unexpected motion. Her breath caught, but she didn't fight him. She just closed her eyes and kissed him back, feeling as though she were rising up with every second of the kiss. Her heart picked up with excitement as warmth spread throughout her body. Even after Caspian broke away, the warmth stayed.

He stroked Annette's cheek with his thumb as he gazed into her green eyes. He leaned forward and kissed her smiling lips one last time before heading back to the stables. The smile never once left her face.

~.~.~.~.

Margaret kicked the grass beneath her feet. She was sick of looking at the twinkling armor of the Telmarine army. Miraz's armor was the most distracting since it reflected gold rather than silver. The blemished green grass was a much better thing to look at, and far more pleasing in her eyes.

A cheer arising from the surrounding Narnian's made Margaret's ears perk up. This could only mean Peter and Edmund were finally emerging from the How. With a sigh, she looked out to the rocks where Peter and Miraz would soon be fighting. Her recently-kissed, still smiling friend was out there instead of Caspian. Peter would not be pleased.

Heavy footsteps cluttered Margaret's left ear while the cries of the Narnian's filled her right. The discordant sounds forced Margaret to pick a direction to look in. If she looked to her right, she'd get to gaze at the sleek fur of an elk. But if she looked to her left, then she might get a glance of Edmund.

She chose her left.

Edmund and Peter's bobbing heads were the first to appear. As they walked farther up towards level ground, Margaret noticed Edmund holding Peter's sword. Its casing was different, but the Lion-headed handle proved it was the same sword Peter always carried. Edmund searched the crowd for Margaret, smiling when he was finally able to make eye contact with her. She waved, but then looked straight ahead before she got too distracted.

Except she wasn't the one who got distracted. Edmund was. Margaret soon found herself being dragged by the hand up to the awaiting Peter. "Edmund, what are you doing?" She whispered as he continued pulling her along.

"You deserve to be up there just as much as us." Edmund finished just as they reached his brother.

Margaret frowned when she saw Peter's unhappy expression. He wasn't slow to make his thoughts known. "First Annette, and now Margaret. Any other changes I should be aware of?"

"Nope!" Edmund smiled before walking forward, but Peter held him back.

"Ed, I don't want to push the marshal limit." Peter's eyes briefly slid over to Margaret. "No offense." She shrugged in return. He was right. Miraz only had three marshals while Peter already had four. Margaret would be his fifth, almost double what the enemy had. Not to mention, she had only one day of training, and was probably still worthless.

"Well, we have to bring her." Edmund shrugged as if Peter should already know the reason why.

Peter closed his eyes and let out a long agitated sigh. "And _why_ should we bring Margaret?"

"Yes, Edmund," Margaret added her voice to the conversation, just as confused as Peter. "Why should we bring Margaret?"

"Well," He rubbed the back of his neck and guiltily looked from Peter to Margaret. "Because I kind of told the Telmarines that Margaret was the best swordsman we had. Therefore, it'd be a little odd if she wasn't there with us." Margaret's face lit up as the memory of their previous expedition filled her head.

"You've got to be joking." Peter slouched forward a little. He looked between the two of them, sighing when he saw only their amused faces. He turned to Margaret with a worried expression. "Have you at least had any time to practice with your sword?"

She nodded. "Oh, yes. I've had plenty of time for that." She only wished she could display her new skills to Peter right there, but she contained the excitement bubbling up inside of her. Hopefully, she wouldn't have to use her skills at all on that die. Secretly, she had wanted to be up there with her friends. Margaret hated being left out, but Edmund had helped her move up.

"Fine." Peter said after thinking the entire situation over. "Can we just go?" The three of them walked the rest of the way to the dueling arena in silence. When they reached the spot, Edmund stayed with Peter while Margaret sauntered over towards Annette and Glenstorm.

Annette didn't look over at Margaret. Instead, she looked across at Miraz, the General, and two other lords. Margaret crossed her arms with a smile. "Annette, it's rude to stare." She mockingly scolded her friend.

Annette slightly glared at Margaret before focusing back on the four men sitting across from them. "That General is quite strange." She stated, causing Margaret to follow her gaze. Miraz was quietly talking to the General, making a small gesture towards the crossbow he held in his hands.

Margaret gasped the second she understood. "They _are_ going to betray us!" She was just about to warn Peter when Annette stuck her hand out to stop her.

"Look at the General's face." She commanded Margaret without removing her eyes from the scene. Margaret looked back at the traitors, shocked with what she was witnessing. "He may be nodding to please the King, but his heart is elsewhere. He knows who the _true_ King is. But he also knows that if he defies this false one, he'll certainly be killed. He's not a bad man…" Annette finally let her gaze trickle towards Margaret. "He's different."

Margaret nodded in agreement, but couldn't reply back to Annette because Peter and Miraz had now entered the ring. They taunted each other by constantly remaining across from the other. One move would not be blocked. Each step was mimicked. Glenstorm, Annette, Margaret, and Edmund scooted closer together on Peter's side of the ring, creating a type of barrier. The Bulgy Bear stood off to the side; he was a barrier of his own.

The two friends exchanged uneasy glances before straining their ears to hear the conversation between Peter and Miraz. These were the final moments before an all-out-war took place here in Narnia. The only question was: who would start the duel?

"There is still time to surrender." Miraz sneered through his helmet.

"Well, feel free." Peter replied, just as insolent.

Miraz slightly threw his arms up. "How many more must die for the throne?"

"_Just one._" Peter said as he slammed his helmet down over his face.

Both men formed their ready stances, waiting for the other to take the first move. Peter took the initiative and ran onto a nearby rock. He launched towards Miraz, sword raised. The men shouted as their swords clashed with the other's shield. Cries from their supporting soldiers followed.

Edmund, Margaret, Annette, and Glenstorm said nothing. They were too entranced by the duel. The duel that held the fate of Narnia.


	19. Treachery & Betrayal

**Hey guys! MistroStrings here. Hope you're all enjoying your summers. It's super nice where MisticLight and I are, and I'm enjoying every minute of it! Hope you all enjoy the chapter, especially those of you who love intense-ness. Even though… YOU ALL KNOW WHAT HAPPENS! *throws confetti***

**-_- No really though, read and review.**

**KTHNXBYE :]**

**~Mistro~**

~.~.~.~.~

_Sword against shield. Shield against helmet._

"This is wrong. Narnia belongs to the Narnians." Margaret couldn't help but choke her words towards Edmund. He didn't need to respond. She didn't need to look at his face. They were all thinking the same thing. "Peter shouldn't have to die for it."

_Sword against shield. The swing of a sword. Missed._

Edmund's head snapped briefly over to Margaret. It was evident in his expression that he was upset by her words. His brother had as much a chance of winning as losing. But he saw the fear on her face. Quietly, he turned away in hopes of relaxing his mind. "Just keep rooting for him," Edmund muttered almost too softly to be heard. "That's all he needs."

_Sword finally against sword. A shove. A scream from Miraz._

Annette tensed up slightly at Miraz's strained moaning. "What?" She said, her eyes widening. "What's happened?"

Peter and Miraz circled one another ominously. It was as if time had halted for a moment. Everything in Margaret's eyes was slower and more panned out. It was like she was watching a film, waiting desperately for the next thing to happen. That was the trouble, however. Films could replay over and over. This was something that, no matter what the outcome, could never be changed. Everyone stayed silent and watched on as the bright sun stained their nervous faces.

_A scream from both. Sword against sword._

Edmund couldn't help but smile now. Even though no one was clearly winning, Peter's energy was shining through. He wasn't going to give up easily. "A true King of Narnia." Glenstorm said proudly towards Peter. Both Edmund and Margaret couldn't resist breaking out into another smile. He was doing splendidly.

_Sword against helmet. Peter's face revealed with a cry of pain._

Annette couldn't suppress her gasp. Her hands instinctively went to her mouth. Margaret also tensed up. Maybe everyone had been too proud, too soon.

_Sword flung at the throat. Peter dodges it._

Annette's eyes nervously scanned the crumbling tile beneath her feet. To distract herself, she desperately wanted to kick a small rock by her toe. But she couldn't move. She couldn't think. Peter's helmet was off and his head nearly followed. There were bombs back home, but here… it somehow didn't seem much worse.

_Cut on the knee. A cry of agony._

"Keep going!" Margaret begged, clasping her hands together. "God, help him. Help him kill this man."

Edmund looked over at her with a small smirk. "Now _that_ doesn't sound very religious."

_Miraz stumbles. A moment of hesitation. An exasperated shout._

"What is he standing there gaping for?" Annette nearly laughed. "Oh, he _knows_ he's going to get what he deserves." Out of disgust, she shook her head, pursing out her lips. Glenstorm looked down at her in amusement. There was definitely something different about those two girls.

_Peter dodges another strike. He falls. Miraz takes the opportunity to twist his arm by stepping on his shield._

"Don't do anything brash." Edmund said whilst pulling Margaret back towards him. She had a natural instinct to run out onto the field and help Peter. It was a good thing Edmund was there. Otherwise, she'd probably have started the war much sooner. An image came to her mind… Her, lying on the ground, with a sword stuck in her chest. Dead. She frowned at the idea. Yes, she was sure Peter was fine on his own.

_Peter rolls on the gravel. Swords are continuously hitting against one another._

"I wish he had enough time to stand up," Annette mumbled. "I'm sure that isn't very comfortable."

Glenstorm narrowed his thick black brows towards her. "Is dueling supposed to be comfortable?"

Annette's eyes were still watching Peter and Miraz intensely, but she continued to speak to the centaur. "Well, I suppose not. But in a sense they could be more logical.

_Peter rebounds. Miraz is knocked down with a scream. A horse is heard in the distance._

Annette's head instantly snapped to the left. Everyone else followed her motion, but no one else's heart was beating quite as fast. As Caspian rode up on his horse, everyone grew silent. There was one person Annette knew who would definitely be smiling. She turned her gaze over to Miraz. He stood proudly now, his face still covered by his mask. She knew that underneath that painted and realistic frown was a smile of loathing.

"Things are about to change." Annette said. "Now that Caspian's here, Miraz is going to want to deal with him."

"Or quite the opposite." Margaret desolately sighed. Her bright eyes faced back to bigger matters. In her heart she feared that the battle had continued in those few seconds, and when she turned around, Peter would be dead. However, he was walking towards her, his face red with sweat and anger. Beneath the ruddiness of his face was a streak of pain, splashed all over his features.

Edmund quickly rushed to his brother, locking their arms. Gravel crunched beneath them in the silence. Peter often tried to be strong for himself, for his family, and for Narnia. Today was a different day and he struggled to keep his composure.

"Are you alright?" Margaret stuttered, lightly touching his arm.

Peter stared at her for a moment, before an involuntary wince escaped his lips. "Never felt better." He managed to say with the hint of a smile. Of course it was a lie, but it made Margaret feel a bit calmer.

Peter's eyes grew wide at the sight of Susan and Caspian coming off the horse. He scanned all over, clearly looking for something. When they approached and no one spoke, emotional pain overtook physical. "… Lucy?"

"She got through," Susan reassured. "With a little help." She shot her head to the side, motioning to Caspian.

"Thanks." Peter said with relief and bliss flowing off every letter. Things were changing between the Royals. They now had a common enemy. Their friends were mutual. They could finally work as a team, as everyone had been hoping for.

Caspian gave his friend a surprising smile. "Well, you were busy." His eyes scanned Peter's 'barrier' of friends. Caspian's smile didn't falter as he locked eyes on Annette. "But at least you weren't alone."

Margaret might have been a bit daft at times, but she certainly wasn't dumb. The smile exchanged by her friend and the Prince was not one of benevolence. There was something more to it, something she would have to find out later. Her stomach fell a bit however as she looked on at the army of Narnians. Would she ever get the chance?

"I'd better get out there." Peter said in a shaking tone.

Margaret snapped out of her thoughts instantly. Once again, she was thrown back into reality. _What a strange kind of reality,_she thought dejectedly to herself.

By now, Susan had disappeared into the How while Edmund and Peter, whose sword was raised, were wearing rather large grins. It was obvious they were trying to raise the spirits of the Narnians, but up close things were different. Margaret could definitely see the pain etched across Peter's face, and especially noted his continuous grabbing of the shoulder.

Thankfully Caspian noticed too. His smile faded instantly to a look of worry. Everyone could have done without worried looks, but it was clear that Peter needed help. "You will not go until you're taken care of." Caspian mumbled. He gently took Peter's arm and led him to chair, removing his shield.

Hesitantly, Peter sat down. His golden eyes clearly trembled on the verge of tears. Annette looked on sadly. Peter's dignity was now faltering too. "What are you going to do?" Peter asked with more uncertainty. Unsure himself, Caspian gently took his friend's hand, only causing Peter to wince again. "I think it's dislocated."

Once again, Margaret was not entirely dumb. One part she clearly remembered in school fitness was that in sports, people often dislocated their shoulders. She zoned off for most of the lecture, but it did stick out in her mind as being very painful. If he would have to pop it back into place, she would instantly turn away. That crunching noise would make her stomach weak. And what would people say about the _'best'_ swordswoman in Narnia wincing from a _pop_?

Edmund was watching Margaret for a while, and noticed her discomfort at Peter's last remark. "Are you alright?" He asked. She shook her head. "You can watch a war, but you can't watch an arm being snapped back into place?" Margaret pathetically looked away from him, her cheeks turning pink. He was right. It was certainly foolish. But, foolishness wasn't something that would change her mind. It was also one of her signature traits. "That's alright," Edmund said calmly. "If you have to look away, I'll look away with you… That way you'll have someone to talk to."

Margaret couldn't resist another smile. "Thank you, Edmund."

"Edmund," Peter said through gritted teeth. "Come help me."

Edmund glanced towards Margaret with a look of apology. "Sorry." He muttered, walking to his brother. He placed a warm, supportive hand on his shoulder. Peter looked forward, his eyes nearly drained of hope. He was in pain, but Margaret didn't think he was doing _that_badly.

"What do you think happens back home…" Peter said slowly. "If you die here?" Edmund said nothing. He tightened his grip on his brother's arm, just to let him know he was still there. Peter's courage was fumbling and with grief he looked up towards his younger brother. The difference in their faces was incredible, but their hearts and minds were similar. "You know you've always been," Peter started. "And I never really-"

"Save it for later." Edmund snapped, cracking his brother's shoulder back into its socket. Peter withered with pain, but had to compose himself quickly before the battle ensued.

And just like that, Margaret's vision of life had sped up considerably since last time. Things were moving quickly now. Swords were flying against swords, bodies against bodies. Screams from not only the fighters, but the army as well filled the air. It was like chaos—organized chaos—that was determining the fate of her new world.

Thoughts were so rapidly flying through Annette's mind that she couldn't even process them into words. She wanted to talk to Caspian to make sense of what was going on, but she couldn't. Her eyes were fixed intimately on the battle, and so were his.

Finally, one punch to the thigh changed everything.

"He hurt him!" Edmund beamed, lifting up one side of his mouth into a triumphant smile. "He hurt him considerably."

"Respite!" Miraz could be heard muttering through beads of spit and sweat. "Respite." Whooping and hollering echoed off both armies. It hovered above the battle field, shouts of victory, and accusations of cheating balancing about the sword fighters. It only made things tenser, especially as Miraz's sword clinked to the ground in clear defeat.

Only, Peter didn't seem to want defeat. He stood, his eyes gazing at his opponent with a look of complete and utter mercy. The Narnians could hardly believe their eyes. He was hesitant! He was really considering letting this man, the man who ruined their race, live! Fumes were boiling inside of Edmund. He couldn't hold them in much longer, and finally spat out towards his brother. "Now's not the time for chivalry, Peter!"

Peter took no notice of his younger brother. Moments ago Peter had apologized to him, but now he wasn't listening. It was certainly _not_the best time to stop listening. Peter, shaking his head in disbelief at the stupidity of it all, began to walk away from the fallen Miraz. Dust was kicked up around his feet, sending spirals of clouds around him.

"Look out!" Edmund screamed, just as Miraz lunged for Peter.

Quick on his hearing, and even quicker on his toes, Peter spun around to yet against fight off Miraz. "He should have just listened to you." Margaret mumbled pathetically, burying her face in her hands for a brief moment. "Him and his conscience."

Sword against bare hands. Yet Peter had the upper hand, and everyone knew it. Miraz's men watched on, hardened faces knowing that their King would lose to a boy. No one spoke. Not until Peter finally got the upper hand and… didn't kill him. "Again?" Annette muttered, biting down on her lip with nerves.

"What's the matter, _boy_?" Miraz managed to disgustingly chuckle out through bloody lips. "Too cowardly to take a life?"

Peter stared at him for a long while. There were many thoughts going through his head: ones too harsh, ones too rude. One came to him though that seemed fitting and he silently let his sword fall. "It's not mine to take." And with that, he turned from his failing partner to lock eyes with…

"Caspian?" Annette whispered, snapping her head up towards him.

Caspian was also hesitant, but darkness had shown through his already dark eyes. A sinister look crossed his face, one that could have scared anyone who was paying enough attention. Now was Caspian's chance for revenge. He slowly met Peter by his uncle, taking the chipped sword in hand. The sun was rising higher in the sky, unfitting for the murky thoughts flowing through the young Prince's mind.

Majestically, with the steady arm of a real King, Caspian lifted the sword into the air with one hand laid gently across it. The point was aimed directly at the throat of Miraz. No one spoke for a while. It was only when Caspian's hands began to tremble that Miraz decided last words would be needed. "Perhaps I was wrong." He admitted. "Maybe you do have the makings of a Telmarine King… after all."

Anyone close enough could have seen Caspian's shaking lips and hands. With a shout of fatigue and rage towards his uncle, he flung his sword firmly into the ground. The blade gleamed again in the sunlight, untouched by blood. The tip stuck firmly in the dirt, peeking up from pieces of broken stone. Miraz was not dead, but it was clear that he had lost. He had lost in soul and that was enough for Caspian.

"Not one like you." Caspian said softly, his face close towards his uncle. "Keep your life… But I am giving the Narnians back their kingdom." Caspian looked nobly up at Miraz's men, a smile firmly planted on his face. He had won, and he had saved the Telmarine King as well. Everyone won in that way, and Caspian was proud he now had the power to do that.

If anyone was unsure of Caspian's decision at first, they didn't show it. The Narnians burst out into thunderous applause and cheering. As Caspian made his way back, his gleaming white teeth showed with pride. Annette couldn't resist a laugh as she wrapped her arms tightly around him. "You did it!" She sighed happily, shutting her eyes. "That is what a real King does." He loosened his grip, but held her back at a distance, still smiling upon her. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but struggled to find the words. Annette clearly didn't mind. Having him alive and smiling at her was more of a gift than she ever thought she'd get the chance to have.

Everyone's attention was focused on Caspian. Margaret however, was interested in watching the fallen Miraz regain any honor he had left. His right hand man, Lord Sopespian, came up to him slowly, helping him off the ground. "My King." He said sweetly, helping to lift him up. She smiled a bit at the warmth. _Not all Telmarines are heartless then,_she thought. _Some really do care for their Kings._

Miraz on the other hand, was not so fond. Margaret couldn't hear exactly what he had said back over the shouting, but it didn't look promising. Disgust crossed Miraz's face, as well as his partner's. Neither of them were happy with losing, and both looked less than pleased. Edmund noticed the concerned look on Margaret's face. He stepped a bit closer to her, his eyes not interested in following her gaze, but only her. "Are you alright?"

But before she could answer, one of Susan's arrows found its way from Sopespian's hand straight through Miraz's chest. Margaret's eyes grew wide in shock, a scream escaping her lips. Everyone's gaze shot towards the mutiny now lying before them. The cheering stopped. Fury crossed everyone's face, especially Caspian, who had shown mercy. Margaret's hand reached out for Edmund's as a first instinct.

"_Treachery__!_" Lord Sopespian shouted, threateningly pointing a finger to the archers and grabbing Miraz's sword. "They shot him! They murdered our King!"

"No!" Margaret shouted furiously. Once again, she went to step forward to deal with the situation. Edmund grasped her hand tighter, keeping her in her place. "How dare him!" She shouted furiously. "How _dare_ he accuse us of cheating!"

She continued to struggle against Edmund's grasp, but in the end she gave up. "Margaret," He muttered. "Don't overestimate your fighting abilities. We won't be losing you today too." Margaret dropped her head, shaking it back and forth in disbelief.

"But this means…"

"War," Edmund said, squeezing her hand a bit tighter. "I know."

"Be ready!" Peter shouted behind him, pointing at his army. None of them had prepared for this. They had prepared for a battle, but not one that would be filled with such lies and rage.

At the sound of Peter's voice, Margaret nearly crumbled. She felt her knees go out beneath her, almost hitting the warm floor. Edmund managed to catch her before she fell. "I'm not ready for this," She breathed in disbelief. "This is surreal. I can't really fight! You _know_ I can't!"

Edmund grabbed her shoulders tightly, looking her square in the eye. He wanted to say many things, but struggled to find something proper. He knew she could do it, but he didn't know what to say that would make her believe in him. Time wasn't on his side either. "Like I said, we won't lose you today." He fumbled with words as he watched the oncoming army prepare themselves. "Look, I'm not going to lose you. I refuse to." Margaret felt her already rushing heart pick up its pace. "That's why I trained you so well. Then, when I'm not near you, you can protect yourself. Because I know you can."

Margaret managed a firm head nod. If they made it through this, she'd owe her life to Edmund Pevensie.


	20. Battle at Aslan's How

**Chapter 20! Ten chapters ago, MistroStrings and MisticLight wrote a chapter together. Now here they are, ten chapters later, and the same thing is about to happen. They are going to write this****epic Narnian battle****in one long, super mega awesome chapter. Most parts will be written in individual character segments, but the last portion will be written in a combined story telling thing. So sit back, read, and "Leap****into another world where the boys are cute and easily dealt with."**

… **Don't ask about that quote unless it goes along with a review ;)**

**~MistroStrings and MisticLight**

**P.S. If you look really closely in the movie around the time the trees come in, you will see a Narnian fist bump between Caspian and Trumpkin. EXTRA WIN.**

~.~.~.~.

When Peter allowed Caspian to take Miraz's life, Annette suddenly froze. Her entire body tensed up and she found her eyes unable to leave Caspian as he raised his sword above the kneeling, exhausted figure of Miraz. "Perhaps I was wrong." Miraz admitted. "Maybe you do have the makings of a Telmarine King… after all."

The final words from him caused Caspian to tremble. You could only notice the shaking if you really paid attention to him, and Annette's wide eyes were definitely focused. With a shout of fatigue and rage, he had brought his sword down upon his uncle. But, Miraz's body didn't crumble to the ground as a recently slaughtered corpse ought to.

"Not one like you." Caspian spat softly, his face leaning closer towards his uncle. This was when Annette finally took notice of the sword planted in a small patch of grass. "Keep your life… But I am giving the Narnians back their kingdom." Caspian stood as a kingly elegance took hold of him. He smiled up at Miraz's men, showing his pride with the decision to spare Miraz's life. Both sides had won and Caspian was thrilled with the power he had in making that decision.

He walked back towards his companions with the thunderous applause of the Narnians filling his ears. A satisfied smile overtook Peter's face while Edmund, proud with the Prince's actions, patted him on the back. Margaret briefly smiled at him before looking back at the arena. She was quite pleased with Caspian, but was much more interested with what the Telmarines would do next. Caspian didn't mind Margaret's curiosity; he was much more anxious with what Annette had to say.

To Caspian's relief, Annette couldn't be any happier as she wrapped her arms tightly around him. "You did it!" She sighed happily, shutting her eyes. "That's what a real King does."

Smiling, Caspian loosened his grip and held her back at a distance. He wanted to say something, but had a hard time forming the correct words. At first Annette didn't mind—he being alive was a gift itself—but then she noticed the red tinges lurking in his eyes. Her face immediately tightened with concern. "Caspian, is something wrong?"

Caspian studied Annette's face, but shut his eyes before she could read the emotion behind them. "I am going back to the How." He sighed after a short pause. And, without another word, he left.

Annette was about to chase after him, but then the gasps of a dying man followed by a scream from Margaret filled her ears. She spun around to make sure her friend wasn't in any danger, but soon found the reasoning for Margaret's shriek. An arrow, which had once belonged to Susan, was lodged into Miraz's left side.

"_Treachery!_" The Lord Sopespian shouted, threateningly pointing a finger to the archers. "They shot him! They murdered our King!" He picked up the fallen Miraz's sword and ran back towards the horses.

"No!" Margaret shouted furiously, taking a step forward to deal with the situation. "How dare him! How _dare_ he accuse us of cheating!" Edmund, who had been holding Margaret's hand, tightened his grasp. He would not let Margaret kill herself, no matter how much she tried to fight him.

"Be ready!" Peter shouted as Annette slowly approached him, Margaret, and Edmund. Everyone knew the Telmarines might do something like this, but this was certainly not what anyone hoped for. There was too much mutiny.

"Margaret?" Annette meekly said once she reached her friend. "I don't know how I feel about this. I just don't know if I can fight them or if… are you even listening to me?" Margaret was far too busy conversing with Edmund to take notice of her. Annette, hands folded across her chest, glared but immediately regretted it. They all had their own thoughts and worries to be concerned with.

"Peter!" A shout from Caspian echoed behind everyone. Annette looked back at the Prince only to follow his pointed finger back towards the arena. The final Lord that had been with Miraz was charging right for the High King, his sword drawn.

However, he was no match for the boy. Peter easily blocked his first attack and swung at his left leg, causing the helpless man to plummet to his knees. The impact forced his head to lunge to the side and expose his collar. Taking the advantage, Peter swiped his sword right through the man's neck. Annette kept her exposure as the head rolled off its body and onto the rocks. Peter, seemingly unaffected by the first _real_kill of battle, pointed back at Caspian. "Go!"

As ordered, Caspian ran back towards the horse he had arrived on with Susan. Annette questioningly looked to Margaret, who was now looking out at the retreating men, before coming to a sudden decision to go with Caspian. She sprinted after him, uncertain as to why yet happy with her impulsive choice.

"I'm coming with you." She stated slightly out of breath. Caspian seemed almost relieved to have her there and happily offered a hand to help up. Annette took it and was lifted onto the horse. The image of the head falling was one that could not seem to escape her mind, no matter how much she held onto the Prince.

~.~.~.~.

Margaret watched the scene before her as her face flushed with horror. Betrayal flashed before her eyes but she kept her dignity intact. The other General, the younger one with the softer face, called back to his troops. She recalled what Annette had said about him earlier, how he seemed different, but now Margaret could only look at him with disgust. "Annette," She said wryly, pulling out her sword. "Look at your heroic General _now_."

Annette wasn't paying attention though. She darted back towards Caspian, who then helped her onto his horse. Margaret watched them quietly, her stomach churning at the scene. Annette was supposed to be by her side. Ever since they'd gotten to Narnia, she'd had both eyes trained on him. Margaret felt the jealousy bubbling in her clenched fists. They were supposed to be protecting each other like they had in England. However, she was continuously running off with this Prince... King... whatever he was.

She knew now was not the time to be having such thoughts. Upon realization they would soon be fighting to the death set something off inside her. Her immaturity and naivety instantly reinstalled inside her mind. It racked her brains something horrible, until she convinced herself that she could not progress in this battle without her friend.

Peter noticed the discomfort etched across the young girl's face. Hesitantly, he placed a gloved hand on her shoulder. Her thoughts snapped in two at the sensation of his touch. His eyes met hers cautiously; he knew she was vulnerable right now and ready to crack. "We're all in this together." He spoke loudly over the rustle of soldiers. "You have to trust in yourself. Don't put your own life in the hands of someone else. Otherwise, you'll never be able to lead yourself."

She normally might have disagreed with Peter, but now she felt his words to be honest. Her nerves were ferociously eating away at her, but clearly so were his. "You're a true King, Peter." She whispered, too soft for anyone else to comprehend. He smiled, and the warmth in his face raised her hopes even more.

Talking was cut short thought. Catapults from the other side hesitated for little less than a minute before large rocks and stones hurtled in the direction of the Narnians. When Margaret turned again to check on her friend, Caspian and Annette stood further away, watching the opposite side carefully. She turned away, jaw clenched in determination. Caspian and Annette could handle things by themselves, and so could she. Peter was right. She could do anything if she just set her mind to it.

Somehow that rang familiar in the back of her mind. _Was this what Aslan meant?_

Not only were catapults being aimed towards them, but now the General's sword. The cavalry was charging straight towards them. Margaret shifted uncomfortably on her feet, breathing as deeply as she could. Edmund's words from earlier echoed through her head. _"When you aim for a target, try taking a deep breath before you do so. It's not always a charmer, but it always makes me feel more focused."_When she had tried it out in practice, her jitters had calmed themselves and she fought him much more smoothly. Standing in the battlefield, she found it a bit hard to focus her mind, but attempted to breathe as deeply as she could.

_Well,_she thought gloomily. _If I die, at least I won't have to go to summer school._

~.~.~.~.

Caspian and Annette patiently waited for the signal Peter would give once it was time to ride back into the How. The catapults had already started their rain of stones upon the Narnians, and the cavalry was rapidly approaching. With each pound given to the dirt, Annette found herself cringing. The time for battle was upon them, and yet she found herself not wanting to cause anyone else to die. The rolling the head… the dead man's eyes… they haunted her every thought.

"Annette," Caspian unexpectedly said as he straightened his horse beside Glenstorm. "I cannot guarantee I will always be with you when we fight, but I can promise that-"

"Don't." Annette cut him off, determination somehow arising in her voice. "Don't promise me anything. I understand people go wherever the battle leads them. I think I'll be able handle things on my own." She tried her best to sound brave, and even threw in a small smile for reassurance. But even if her voice had succeeded, she knew her relentless heartbeat and scattered thoughts was saying otherwise.

"You are over thinking, Annette." Glenstorm's careful eyes drifted from the Telmarine army to the two young riders. "Do not regret protecting those close to you."

Annette looked at the Centaur with wide eyes. _How had he known my thoughts?_

His words mixed together in her head as her uneasy gaze scanned across the approaching army. She felt her heart pounding against her ribs and knew she had to look away before she lost the weak faith she had for herself. Glenstorm's words may have given her some peace, but their light was fading as the army grew closer.

Peter suddenly turned around from his spot in the arena and nodded to the three of them; the signal had been given. Glenstorm, Caspian, and Annette immediately dashed into the How. As they went, Annette desperately clutched Caspian's waist for fear of falling off the galloping horse. Just before the darkness of the How enveloped her, she took a final glance back, trying to find Margaret's eyes.

~.~.~.~.

In seconds, Caspian and Annette disappeared from Margaret's sight, leaving her standing with Peter and Edmund at the front of the How. She looked between the two boys, trying to catch their eyes. Neither of them paid attention to her as their inner fears tried to be calm as well. She sighed heavily with dejection. _Where's Aslan when you need him?_

~.~.~.~.

Once they entered the dimly lit caverns of the How, Annette reached out and grabbed a torch from the wall. She was quite surprised by how she did this on her first attempt, but she didn't let her accomplishment linger for very long. They were now in a room full of restless creatures. Although a smile may have helped calm them, it wasn't what they needed. She had to appear strong for them; not shocked, frightened, and cheerful.

"Narnians!" Caspian shouted as he circled around them. Annette raised the torch high in the air to show her support. "_Charge__!_" He kicked the horse back into a gallop and led the charge between the underground pillars.

_Narnia's future depends on this._Annette took a deep breath. _Now would not be the time to mess things up._

~.~.~.~.

Things stayed silent above ground. Well, as silent as they could be between voices. The thunder of hooves and the rain of cannonball sounded the Earth, but Margaret still felt the place to be very solemn. Very quiet. That was, until a fanfare sounding trumpet rang out and Peter finally spoke.

"One… Two…"

Margaret stared up at his mop-like hair, wishing she could see him with helmet on.

~.~.~.~.

"Three, four…"

As Caspian counted, Annette wiggled in her seat with excitement. She wasn't anticipating the battle, but the mere shock the Telmarine cavalry was about to receive.

~.~.~.~.

Margaret's eyes darted back to Edmund, but he still didn't take notice. His chest was heaving up and down as his nerves were obviously about to spill over the edge.

"Five… Six…"

Susan shouted menacingly from above. "_Take your aim!_" Margaret wished to turn around and face her, but her hand was too busy gripping the daylights out of her sword, and her knees were a second away from buckling beneath her. She had to focus on herself and try to stay calm. It was harder than it sounded.

~.~.~.~.

"Seven, eight…."

Annette lifted her wild eyes to Caspian and squeezed her left arm tighter around his waist. She wanted to make sure she wouldn't fall off when everyone started hitting the support pillars. Having him closer didn't hurt much either, especially since it helped calm her nerves.

~.~.~.~.

"Nine… Get ready!" Peter shouted at the top of his lungs.

Margaret could feel the rumble of cannonballs right beside her. She was extremely surprised, and pleased, that only a few had managed to hit the Narnians. As Peter's voice rang through her head, she shut her eyes tightly. The weight of her armor was easily felt. Safeness was close by. Her sword was poised and ready to fight, a mean look overtaking her eyes. If she could fight Edmund, one of the greatest swordsmen in Narnia, then she could fight the low-life Telmarines. They deserved what they were getting. She just had to keep telling herself that.

Beneath her feet she felt the ground trembling. It reminded her of her own hands. The Narnians would break the barriers in the How any second now, as they had discussed during their strategies earlier that morning. The force of the Earth rattling from above as well as below was a strange sensation. It was as if the world was announcing the harbored apprehension of the opposing armies through its very core. It triggered an awakening inside of her, calling her to heed Aslan's advice, and heed it quickly.

She saw the men get closer. Their footsteps intertwined with her pulsating heartbeat. Desperate and afraid, she turned to the Kings beside her. They stayed firm in their position, despite the oncoming army.

~.~.~.~.

"Ten…"

Annette waited for something to happen, but Caspian remained silent. Her brows knitted together as she anxiously looked up at him. "What are you waiting for?" Her innocent question bounced around the cavern. She only wished this surprise attack would be over with; the anticipation of approaching danger was driving her mad. Caspian's only response was to smirk and lightly hold the hand wrapped around him.

"_Now!_" He abruptly shouted, startling his passenger greatly. Heavy swords clashed against rocky pillars without anyone losing stride. The Giant with them effortlessly took down pillars with a single swing, making the attack faster and easier. Erupting rocks sprayed dust all around them, made eyes water and coughs heaved. But everyone remained proud of what they were doing despite the minor drawbacks. They really didn't mind.

Annette pressed her head against Caspian in an attempt to evade the dust from entering her nostrils. The constant falling of rocks was also something she longed to block out. Caspian was a terrific rider though and managed dodged every massive rock that thundered towards them. Even when the ground became so weak that no more pillars needed to be hit, her swerved the horse between the falling debris. Annette wished she could help, but realized the best thing she could do was steadily hold up the torch so Caspian could see.

Only when the ground stopped rumbling around her did she lift her head back up. They were riding away from the damage they just caused and into a much safer space where the earth wasn't threatening to collapse on them. Despite their momentary safety, she still felt uneasy. There was no exit!

"Caspian… If the way is blocked, how are we going to leave the caves?" She asked in a panic, giving his hand a squeeze.

"Watch and you shall see." Glenstorm answered from her right.

"I'd rather find out _now_," Annette replied back at the mighty Centaur. "It's all quite intimidating."

A small smile momentarily cracked Glenstorm's serious face before he casually shifted his gaze to Caspian. The Prince looked back and, with a nod of his head, sent the two Centaurs on either side of him into opposite directions. Glenstorm charged his cluster of Narnian soldiers forward while the other Centaur veered off to the left a little.

"Hold on!" Caspian shouted back to Annette. Much to her disappointment, he removed his hand from hers to clutch the reins.

She then noticed two Dwarves up ahead remove a thin stone pillar to form a strong plank leading to the battle. Daylight was moments away, so there was really no need for the torch any longer. She allowed for it to slip off her fingertips and fall to the ground before snapping her right arm around back Caspian. The ramp was steep, and the horse had to lung forward many times in order to gallop to the top.

As soon as sunlight surrounded them, Caspian unsheathed his sword and let out a battle cry.

~.~.~.~.

"What if it doesn't work?" Margaret shouted above all of the noise.

Before Peter or Edmund could answer, screams were let loose. From the Telmarines, cries of bewilderment were ringing out. Their horses and half the cavalry were now buried in the ground. Margaret beamed, pleased to see that their plans were going… well, as planned. As they stumbled to crawl away, she knew it wasn't over. Not even close.

Silence followed the dispatch. Through that silence a whizzing noise resonated, a soft hum. Margaret's eyes were directed upwards as a shower of arrows scraped the sky above them. It wouldn't be silent for long.

Man after man began to fall from the Telmarine army. The arrows lodged through their armor like thick, steel bullets. Margaret was not pleased. She had seen war back home. Even if she was fighting for what was right, that did not make things inside of her more at peace. She was watching men die. No one, she deduced, should gain pleasure from such a sight.

She knew what time it was. Peter looked at her. All she could do was nod back slowly. Raising his sword above his head, it wasn't long before the arrows were shot that Peter declared, "Charge!"

Everyone from behind her rushed forward. Peter and Edmund didn't hesitate, being the leaders of the group. Margaret, however, found her feet self-consciously moving backwards. Her hands shook as she gripped her sword. Creatures of Narnia were rushing past her, ready to get into the fight. She continued backing up, further and further away, doubting herself once again.

"Margaret, look out!" She heard someone call.

Spinning around, she gasped as Narnians nearly trampled right beside her, too engaged in the battle to focus on her placing. She stared before her as Narnians attacked from the backside too. She knew Annette would be among them.

She managed to stumble out of their path, still trying to compose herself after their sudden appearance. _What's wrong with me?_Margaret stood, wondering to herself. She keeled over, her torso heaving as she tried to regain her breath. _Why am I so afraid? Why do I doubt myself so often?_

Her eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a way in, but also looking for a way out. Her line of vision was directed towards Peter as his red uniform glittered in the hot sun. She blinked her sweaty hair away from her eyes. Peter's every move was precise: a toss of the arm here, a flick of the sword there. He had everything accurate and perfectly. She fell into a trance just watching him, still tuning out her surroundings.

Perhaps it was just luck, but to Margaret it was nothing but fate. Peter was preoccupied during his battle with one soldier to even consider watching his back. His words from an earlier practice with the Narnians resonated through her head.

_"It's tricky, but you've always got to make sure that you're facing yourself against a landscape of some kind. Never let your back be open. If you do, you'll end up getting stabbed."_

Of course, Peter was straight to the point when he said it, and very firm in his teachings. In battle things were different. This wasn't a practice. Peter was left open, his attention focused somewhere else. So, when the Telmarine approached him from behind, Margaret knew she had no other choice.

~.~.~.~.

The brightness hit Annette before the sounds of war did. Down in the cave, the only lights given were those of the torches. Her eyes had slowly adjusted to the dimness and were not at all pleased with this new shift. Tiny black spots dotted her vision and she fiercely tried to blink them away. After the fourth blink, the surrounding noise entered her ears. Metal against metal, death cries against victory shouts. She _hated_ these noises, but had to toss her displeasure to the side. She had to fight.

Careful not to hit Caspian, Annette drew her sword, but then she froze. Every time she looked down upon a Telmarine climbing out of their trap, her first kill flooded her vision. Her arm stiffened and breath seemed to disappear entirely.

Annette scanned the battlefield, observing all her friends fighting, when she was suddenly reminded of Glenstorm's earlier words. They erupted through her veins and added color to her perplexed features. It set her mind so she wasn't worried about _murdering_, but rather _protecting_. The Telmarines wanted to eliminate all the Narnians, and Annette wasn't about to let that happen. _There is so much life left in this world._ She rationalized before her thoughts turned bitter. _Why are they so willing to take such a gift away?_

Her dark thoughts consumed her, infuriating her. The cruelness of the Telmarines had gone on long enough! With a cry full of rage, Annette swung her sword down at a man, killing him instantly. She felt no regrets.

Despite how successful their surprise was, some Telmarines still managed to avoid the gaping hole. They rode around, swiping at any Narnian in sight. One in particular, Annette noticed, was heading straight for them "Get down!" She gasped while lowering Caspian's head. She slammed against his back and squeezed her eyes shut.

Two breaths later, Annette let her eyes open. She placed her free hand on the back of the horse to secure herself as she looked behind them. The rider, teeth gritting with irritation, swung his horse around to chase after his escaped victims. He locked eyes with Annette, exposing a nasty smile when she didn't back down from his challenging gaze. "Caspian, turn the horse around. We've got to-"

Before she could finish, the horse reared up as a Telmarine was inadvertently thrown in its path, courtesy of the Giant. The unstable legs of the alarmed animal began backing up, its front hooves pawing the air in defense. Caspian grabbed hold of the reins and squeezed his legs around the horse. He leaned forward to force it back onto the ground. The horse, not wanting to submit so easily, bucked its head back. It would have knocked into Caspian's chest had he not shot his head back.

He knew he had to quickly calm the steed, so Caspian gently patted the horse's neck. With his spare hand, he reached for Annette's. Except his hand clinked against armor rather than grasping flesh. With wide eyes, he spun the jittery horse around and frantically searched the battlefield.

~.~.~.~.

There wasn't a moment to waste. Margaret raised her sword above her head. Her arms found strength as she lifted her weapon; a strength she did not know she possessed. Raging with anger at the mere thought of Peter being a target, she spun around smoothly on her feet, sending her sword horizontally. Right at the Telmarine.

Peter had already fought off his distraction. He watched in awe as Margaret's sword hit the man square in the chest, powerfully, with enough force to send him flying down onto the ground. She held her sword in the air as she gasped for breath. Her eyes never left the dying man. Peter only stared at her.

"Margaret," Peter said, a slow grin creeping onto his blooded face. If they hadn't been in battle, Peter would have looked very disturbing. "You've just had your first kill. Congratulations."

Her eyes were still glued to the man. "I did…?" She muttered in disbelief.

He patted her swiftly on the back. "Don't faint. I expect to see thirty more of those."

Peter walked away to otherwise engage himself. She didn't blame him for not being there to comfort her as her whole body racked and shook with fear. "Thirty…?" She could barely utter the words as her head began to grow light.

~.~.~.~.

Annette had been staring back at the Telmarine rider when the horse suddenly reared up. She wasn't holding onto anything and found herself slipping off. She tried to grab a hold of Caspian, but she was already too far back. Realizing that the only thing left to do was fall; she closed her eyes and tightly clutched her sword… except the horse was awfully close to the border of the hole. Her back crashed against the edge of it. With a small yelp, Annette rolled down into the center of the Telmarine trap. Her head smacked against the hard earth and at some point her sword had flown from her hand.

For a few moments, she forgot everything and dazedly remained in the center of everything. Eventually her aching head came to and she sat up to try and locate her missing sword. Her dizzy eyes feverishly scanned the hole she had fallen into. It was terribly hard to locate a metal sword amongst the glimmering silver of armor, but somehow Annette was able to find it a few meters away. She scrambled to her feet and dashed for the weapon.

A Telmarine found her first though, his sword swinging like a mad man. Her eyes widened and she ducked low to the ground. The Telmarine prepared to lash out a second attack, but soon found himself falling face first into the dirt see as Annette had rammed herself into the soldier's legs. But he would have none of it and grabbed a hold of her foot as she ran away, causing her to trip.

The soldier got to his feet and raised his sword above her head. She snapped her eyes shut, waiting for her memory to drift away. But it never happened. Instead, she heard the patter of something hitting her armor.

When Annette dared to open her eyes, she became aware of a red liquid. Blood. Disgusted, she looked up to see the once threatening Telmarine falling to the ground, thanks to the sword of Glenstorm. He reached a hand down to help her up.

"Thanks." She smiled. Glenstorm nodded in response before charging back into the battle. He had helped Annette multiple times throughout her adventure, and now he had saved her life. She was definitely in debt to him.

~.~.~.~.

Something inside Margaret was different. There was lightness in her body that she did not feel should be there. She had killed a man. Didn't that mean something? Why was there so little regret? She attuned her eyes to the land around her. Men were dropping by the twenties. Not just Telmarines, but her very friends. Her stomach winced at the thought. She had saved her King from death moments ago. She had done the _right thing_, and felt no shame in it. Yet her mind remained a blur. She had to breathe deeply and carry on. It was what she needed to do for Narnia, as well as herself.

Horse hooves bounded beside her, breaking her from her thoughts. Edmund rode by with a large cross bow now in his hands. He struck a man down in seconds before recomposing himself and riding on. Margaret watched in admiration. He was no longer the boy in practice who would laugh every time Margaret had 'died'. He maintained a kingly air as he bounded through the field.

Behind her, she heard a cry of aggression. Her thoughts were rudely interrupted, as she spun around with a sword raised. Sure enough, another Telmarine saw she was at ease and took it as an advantage. "Don't even _think_about it!" She shouted furiously, sending her sword towards him. He rebounded swiftly, their weapons clashing against one another. She winced as his muscular arms tried to tear her down.

"Give it up!" The man shouted to her behind a thick, black beard. "Your race is dying!"

_Her_ race? Was she a Narnian?

"Oh really?" Sweat broke out on her face as she tried to push his sword further away from her. "Then why is it that you're the one who's dead?" He paused for a moment, confused by her words. His moment of hesitation allowed him to release his grip on his sword, letting Margaret lean into the attack. Ruthlessly, she shoved his sword away from him, sending a firm kick to his chest. He flew backwards onto the ground as his weapon soared into her own hand. She now held both swords in her fists, and she wasn't afraid to point them threateningly towards his neck. "You heard me…" She grumbled.

However, she hesitated. That was the downfall. She had the power, and she knew that. But, Margaret just couldn't bring herself to stab the poor man while looking into his eyes. He noticed her weakness and began to smile.

She waited too long for her chance. An arrow suddenly struck him firmly in the chest. She looked up only to see Edmund riding by, not even taking the time to glance at her. In her head, she whispered her thanks. She wouldn't have been able to do it on her own.

~.~.~.~.

It was with much relief when Annette finally grasped her sword in her hand. She looked at the fighting above her, somehow finding the concerned face of Caspian. He relaxed for a moment once his eyes met her, but then he noticed the oncoming Telmarine army. He looked back at the smaller numbers of the Narnians and raised his sword high in the air.

"Griffins!" Annette gasped as the winged beasts flew above her. She admired them until a Telmarine's sword brought her back into reality. _Focus!_ She commanded herself. The Telmarine had gotten a good laugh from her surprised face, but that same brazen chuckle became his final words as Annette cut through his armor.

She didn't have time for pity. As her sword thrashed about, she knew she had momentum. She wanted to defend Narnia so badly that she refused to accept the fact that they were losing. It was with a sigh that Annette followed Peter's orders of retreat.

She crawled out of the hole, but as soon as she started to run for the How, she witnessed its entrance collapse. Her pace quickened at the sight. They were trapped outside.

~.~.~.~.

Too many things were happening at once. The Telmarines were still strong in numbers, while the Narnians, shamefully, were quite the opposite. Griffins were flying overhead, but they were getting struck down just as much as the men on the ground. Margaret didn't know what to do. Once again, she didn't know where to turn. _Where_ is_Aslan?_She wondered to herself.

She heard a call off in the distance. "Back to the How!" She knew it was Peter. Something was wrong.

They were losing.

As much as she didn't want to lose, she did not wish to die either. She felt selfish for thinking it, but her years were not very high, and she wished to see them through. And of course, she did not wish to live to see the death of any more of her friends. She grabbed her skirt firmly in her hand, rushing back to the How without tripping over any bodies. Edmund met up with her halfway. "Margaret!" He shouted. "Take my hand! Get on the horse!" She did as she was told, and, once atop, grabbed his waist tightly.

Disappointment reigned once again. Cannonballs were hurtling through the air much faster than the Narnians could run. Before they knew it, the How's entrance was broken down. Despite the dismal picture presented before everyone, the Narnians held onto their strength. They weren't leaving the battle that easily.

"Come on." Edmund said, stopping his horse. He climbed off quickly, offering her a trembling hand. She took it firmly, hoping this gesture would give him some kind of relief. As her feet touched the ground, her hand refused to let go.

"Edmund…" She began. Not knowing how to continue, she looked into his eyes for comfort. He could say nothing as his eyes grew wild. He may have been a King, but this was still difficult for him. She could see he was struggling physically and mentally. He couldn't stand the thought that he was a murderer. She recognized this, and tightly squeezed his hand once more before they joined Peter and the others. Words were not needed.

Edmund tossed down his crossbow awkwardly, realizing it would be of little use in any situation from that point onwards. Susan joined the group as well. They were all lined up, knowing that they had no other option but to fight.

Yet, Margaret knew they could do it. She believed she had the strength.

And this time, she really believed. She didn't need Peter or Aslan to tell her.

_Aslan._

He would be proud. If he could have seen her, she was certain he would have given her a roar of approval. Her time was finally coming. Her power was finally shining through.

~.~.~.~.

Annette ran faster than she ever knew she could and reached her friends in a few minutes. She bent down to catch her breath, knowing this would be the only chance she had.

Things were bad. The Telmarine army was approaching, and the Narnians' beacon of hope had just crumbled before their eyes. Annette looked up to find Peter and Caspian standing before her. She saw the panic in their faces, but was surprised to find a small amount of faith still there. If they wouldn't give up, than neither would she. Annette strode up to stand between them.

"Ready?" Caspian whispered to her as he drew his dagger. She wasn't entirely sure what she should be ready for, but the dagger triggered her memory.

She withdrew her own dagger, the one they had taken from the Telmarines days ago. "Ready." Caspian glanced down at the glimmering dagger and smirked at Annette. He was doing his best to hide the fear she already knew was there. She lightly nudged him with her shoulder.

Annette was about to say something, but was interrupted by Susan squeezing in beside herself and Peter. Her mind instantly snapped back to the battle. She looked down the line they had formed, relieved to see Margaret standing next to Edmund and Trumpkin. They had all made it this far fighting for Narnia. They would either go down with pride or win this treacherous war.

Peter looked on either side of him with a serious expression on his face. Then he charged with the entire Narnian army behind him.

~.~.~.~.

The world around Margaret seemed to go slowly as she rushed forward with her sword at the ready. Her first target was straight in her line of vision. A few turns here and there, and she would have him. As she stared at him, she knew what she needed to do. Her plan of attack etched itself into her mind in mere seconds. When she approached him, with surprise, he was taken down just as she had imagined. "Two." She whispered to herself. Then she turned to the cold-blooded man. "I'm sorry."

Margaret wished she could watch out for the others, but in the heat of the battle, she found herself lost. Men were surrounding her, ready to take her down without a second thought. Obviously, that wasn't part of her plans.

One after the other, Margaret used techniques that her Kings had taught her in practice. _Over the shoulder, through the waist, don't go so high, Margaret! … Double barrier, then slice…_ Time was moving quicker now. Before she even realized it, she had taken down three more men. _That makes five_, she thought, disgusted that she was counting her deaths. She could not help it for some reason. "Perhaps it shall give me solace later." She muttered allowed.

She was more than ready to take on her next target. Instead, she got an even bigger surprise.

~.~.~.~.

The charge made Annette feel powerful for the brief moment it lasted. She liked the feeling and it boosted her confidence despite its promptness. But she forced her mind to find the momentum from before as they met the Telmarine army. Once she found it, there was no stopping her.

Every time a Telmarine approached her, she took him down. The longer she fought, the longer the challenges lasted. Each new Telmarine was strong and refreshed while the same weary Annette grew weaker. Her swings were much slower, and her sword was becoming so heavy that she considered dropping it and using just the dagger.

Before she convinced herself to drop it though, Annette located a new target. She forced her legs into a sprint and slashed at the Telmarine. He easily blocked her and swung back, making Annette's sword plummet to the ground. With no time to pick it up, Annette swiped her dagger at the soldier, who evaded the attack altogether by cutting the palm of her opened right hand. She gasped with pain and brought it close as the soldier snatched her dagger.

Annette looked up from her bleeding hand to the face of the soldier. Except this was no mere soldier, this was the General himself. Her frightened eyes stared into his, only to find them hesitant. A sense of reasoning crossed his face, and his weapon slowly lowered. Annette's expression switched to bafflement, especially when he handed her dagger back and ran off.

Gradually, Annette picked up her back sword. The metal stung her opened palm, but her expression never showed it. _What?_ She questioned the spot the General had just stood. _Why would he…?_

She didn't know how long she stared at the spot, but it was Peter who finally pulled her out of the trance with a tug on her elbow. "What are you doing?" He yelled at her. "You can just stand there like that! You could-"

Annette felt the earth shake beneath her before Peter's voice even trailed off. She spun around to see what had drawn his attention, only to instantly gasp with shock and admiration.

~.~.~.~.

Trees. They were marching towards them. Their vines were lacing around Telmarines by the second, trapping each of them in their knotted, twisted arms. Margaret grinned in delight. She couldn't even stifle a laugh as it escaped her bloodied lips. She raised an arm in victory, feeling almost well enough to jump in exuberance. This was definitely a step up!

A Telmarine next to Margaret did not even glance her way. His eyes grew wide in terror as he watched the oncoming plants come near him. She grinned widely, knowing the Narnians' luck was raised. She couldn't help but send her opponent a wave of hello, as if making a joke for his distraction. However, a tree grabbed him in seconds, twisting his body like a wet rag before tossing it behind.

Every muscle on her face dropped. It seemed as though her wave was more of a goodbye than a greeting. _At least he got a friendly sendoff,_she thought darkly to herself.

~.~.~.~.

Annette stared up at the trees with wonderment. They were _moving_! Their roots pushed the plants forward as if they were wading through water. Not only were these trees a spectacle to look at, but they were also driving the Telmarines away. Any that dared to challenge these mighty plants were soon wrapped with wooden vines.

Peter bent down to help Caspian up from a stumbled surprise. The Prince looked even more terrified now than he had before their second charge. Annette's eyes dashed between them and the plants. "Peter, does this mean…" She couldn't even finish her sentence.

He walked towards his siblings and Margaret, but sent a look back towards Annette with serenity spread across his face. "Lucy."

~.~.~.~.

Catapults were crushed one by one, thanks to the tree roots. The Narnians rose their weapons up with might. Victory shouts were not unheard. The grin was irremovable from Margaret's face; the scene warmed her heart as the sun warmed her skin. The dreary day was taking a turn and for the best.

"For Aslan!" Peter shouted out loudly, grabbing the Narnians attention.

"For Aslan!" Everyone repeated, rushing towards the Telmarines. No one had any more fear in their hearts. It was replaced by hope; hope that was too strong to fade away.

Annette sprinted off shortly after Peter, her previous weariness seeming inexistent. _We're winning!_ She joyfully cheered. Her merriment spread throughout her body until an unfaltering smile came to her lips, followed by a giddy laugh. She didn't care if someone found this odd—laughing in the middle of a war—because it felt right. For the moment, she was happy.

Just as before, she was running alongside her friends. But this time everyone had a sense of excitement. They still had their weapons, along with a few new cuts and bruises, but no one was dead. This lightened Annette's heart and brightened her smile.

Margaret, similarly, felt exhilarated. Her feet hit the soft green grass with a thud. The emerald shade of the Earth was potent. It shimmered like a gem in the sun, spreading out all around them, encasing them into a life of nature. _Who knew nature would win the war?_She mused to herself. _Well, human nature's bad enough. I suppose we have to rely on earthly nature instead._

She felt light, as if she was floating on air. _I'm in a war,_she laughed to herself. _Wars aren't supposed to feel like this._Her thoughts were not changing, however. She smiled as she ran. She did not think about killing any more men. She just thought about winning. She wanted to win. For once in her life, she wanted something to come easily, and to allow her mind to be at peace.

Margaret and Annette were ready to fight, but strangely enough, the Telmarines didn't seem to be on the same page. The girls watched as the opposite army turned their backs to the Narnians, running off in the opposite direction. "What are they doing?" Margaret shouted to Edmund as her eyes scanned the crowd quickly. Annette was equally as interested in the answer.

"They're running away!" Edmund shouted, trying to catch his breath. "It looks like they're leading us towards the river, Peter!"

"Then we'll follow them." His brother answered sternly.

"Does that mean we have to fight them again?" The thought made Annette's nose scrunch with displeasure. "Surely they won't retreat all the way back to the castle."

Both Kings seemed uncertain and shrugged at her comment. Peter, who was running beside her, was the only one to offer any sort of response. "I guess we'll find out."

It didn't take long for them for to reach the river. They entered the thick woods, easily making their way around the trees, which seemed to almost move out of their way for them. The Telmarines' shining, silver armor was easy to follow and soon the trees were cleared from their vision and the shimmering blue river of Beruna was in sight.

Margaret felt the warmth of the sun again as she stepped out onto the sand and stone. The sight of the bridge stood before her, peeking through Telmarine warriors. They stood, unmoving. Margaret craned her neck up to see what all the commotion was about. She was surprised to see Lucy at the other side of it. "Lucy!" She cried happily, pleased to see the little girl safe and sound.

"What?" Annette felt everything besides happy at Margaret's comment. "Is she alone?" Her worried voice was a whisper that only Margaret could hear. They watched as Lucy removed a small dagger from her hip and looked out across the uncertain Telmarine army. She was brave. Far braver than Annette thought she'd ever be. "Margaret, why is she doing that? Shouldn't Aslan be here to help her?"

"Annette, shush." Margaret hushed her friend. She had picked up on the little girl's knowing expression. It was almost as if there was a secret locked within the smile on her face. Someone else was on the other side of the bridge. That someone was Aslan. "Are you happy _now_?" She asked as he came bounding into view. Annette simply smiled, feeling much safer now that Aslan was around.

The Telmarines didn't seem to fully understand the gravity of Aslan's presence before them. Their new leader, Lord Sopespian, raised his sword regardless of the large Lion. He led his men into a charge towards the other end of the bridge. Lucy and Aslan remained unmoving. Margaret felt fear once again, despite Narnia's God standing before her. "They're running towards Lucy." She muttered with each word laced in anxiety.

"It's no problem," Edmund said with a grin. "As long as Aslan doesn't run away, we've got a victory in our bag."

"And I really don't think he's the type of Cat who does that." Annette added as her heart pumped with anticipation. Everyone was far too serious to comprehend her attempt at lightening the mood. The only reaction she received was a brief, uneasy chuckle from Margaret and a small smile from Caspian.

It didn't take too long for Edmund's words to come through. A low rumbling roar escaped the fangs of the Lion. The sound waves rippled through the water, and blew back the amber leaves on the trees. Everyone stood still. What had Aslan just done? _Growled?_ Surely, that was not the only thing he had intended.

It didn't take long for the Telmarines to guess that what just happened was not a simple growl. It was not the call of a Lion for mere playfulness, nor an ignition of fear into enemies' hearts. They did not know what was to come, but they knew it was dangerous. They knew they had to get out.

The waist-deep water began to drain. Everyone watched in amazement as the water lowered itself into nothing. No one knew where the liquid was going, but they all heard the clashing of water headed their way. Panic was sinking in to their bones. One finally shouted out, "What is happening?"

Annette craned her neck to try and see above the part of the army still on land. She wanted to watch Aslan's power unfold just as much as the rest of the Narnians, but her attention was drawn to the growing waves on her right. It seemed to be forming something as it headed their way. Annette prayed this was what Aslan had called.

A few Telmarines, including their new leader, continued to charge forward, but most of the army decided otherwise. They spun on their horses and heels, turning back in the opposite direction. "Hold your ground!" Peter shouted to his men. The Telmarines were coming towards them, but Aslan would not let them touch one another. He had already made sure of that.

A large sloshing noise rang in everyone's ears. Heads instantly snapped towards the source of the noise. Crashing, booming, loud, and frightening, the noise continued to grow. It was coming in faster and everyone stood in silence to see what would happen.

Margaret could hardly believe her eyes. She held her breath at the sight before her. A man, hundreds of feet tall, stood before all of them. He seemed to appear out of nowhere. Water dripped from each of his pores, his body swaying with the waves. "He's… he's made out of the river…" She whispered in disbelief, nearly dropping her sword. "A river man?"

"Who would have thought?" Annette muttered back, barely able to get her words out.

"This proves it." Edmund said plainly. "Aslan can do basically anything."

They all stood silently as they watched the river God rise above the Telmarine Bridge. The mist of the waves sprinkled onto everyone, but the audiences' amazed eyes remain fixed on the creature, whose dark blue pits for eyes seemed to be searching for something. Or some_one_. It didn't take long for him to find his prey: Lord Sopespian.

Some men jumped into the river in a desperate attempt to escape. They swam back towards the Narnians, far too afraid of what Aslan would do if they crossed his path. Annette briefly slid her transfixed eyes to the retreating Telmarines. She wanted to see if the General was amongst them, but her curiosity in the giant man was much more potent.

He did not seem interested in any of the Telmarine soldiers. His eyes were set on only one. Slowly, he leaned his dripping body forward, his hands sliding easily beneath the bridge. With a crack and a twist he lifted it from its place before raising it high off the ground. Only one Telmarine was left standing.

Lord Sopespian was doomed.

The river God's watery eyebrows knitted tightly together as he stared down at the puny Lord. Anger was obvious on his pale blue face. You could see the hate in his pits for eyes, and you knew that the death would not take long. Margaret could not remove her eyes from the scene. Her body was shaking with anticipation, ready for this to be over.

Lord Sopespian slid further down the bridge, his sword swinging about with fear in a final attempt to kill. The river man fell forward, hitting the ground with a large splash. Everyone became wet, but perhaps not as bad as Sopespian. The waves did not take long to calm themselves. Both men had suddenly disappeared. Annette searched the water for a body, but was unable to find one. She knew Aslan had purposefully hidden it so that no one would have to look upon Lord Sopespian's gruesome end.

The bridge was gone. The Telmarines stood silently. All of their leaders departed. The only possible one left was the General, but he was nowhere in sight. So one by one, they slowly began to cross the river and accept defeat. Fear was gone from their eyes as they looked at the mighty Lion. None seemed afraid. Everything was over.

"That's it, then…" Margaret whispered, the warmth of her own flesh becoming an extreme comfort to her. She was still in her body. Her soul was still intact. "It's over."

"It's over." Edmund said with a sigh. Margaret turned to him, finally, glad to be able to look upon him with ease. His hair was moist, though she couldn't tell if it was with sweat or water. Edmund's outfit was ragged, blooded, and dirt stained. His eyes were tired, his lips were chapped; but she looked at him with beauty in her eyes. He was a true King of Narnia, and he had fought like one that day. He couldn't have looked better.

It didn't take him long to notice her staring at him. His dark eyes met hers as a small smile spread across his lips. It was a different kind of expression, Margaret noted, one that was a frown and yet a smile at the same time. She saw sadness at the lives lost, but joy at their victory. They had a chance to live like true Narnians again. Nothing would be more satisfying. Gently, he touched the back of her hand. His eyes stared down at her fingertips for some time before he finally broke his touch.

Annette watched this silent exchange between Edmund and Margaret before looking away with embarrassment. Her flushed cheeks caught the attention of Caspian. "I shouldn't have been watching." She explained herself upon noticing his gaze. She lifted her left hand—seeing as her right was bleeding—and went right back to her old habit of hair twisting. "I was just so relieved this war was finally over that I didn't even realize I was… watching…" Her voice began to slow once Caspian grabbed her hand and slowly untangled it from her hair.

A small smiled worked its way onto his tired face as he looked over the top of Annette's head. "I do not think they noticed." Caspian's gaze lowered to her face. He pushed the thought of exhaustion away from his mind and focused on the happiness he felt for their victory.

"Let's hope so." Annette laughed as she slid her hand out of Caspian's and rubbed the back of her messy hair. "Or else Margaret will never let me hear the end of it." Caspian mixed his own laugh with Annette's. The pressure of the war was finally lifted from their chests; in its place stood a comforting lightness.

"We should go see Aslan," Edmund suggested once Annette and Caspian's laughter had died down. "I'm sure he wants to speak with us."

Annette and Margaret slowly exchanged glances. Did that include them?

"_All_of us." Susan reassured, pushing her way past.

"Well," Annette sighed. "Here goes nothing." She doubted that she fulfilled Aslan's advice, but knew she had tried her best. She boldly took a step forward, but Margaret didn't follow.

Margaret was not afraid to see the Lion who had helped her before. She was ready to go and was curious as to what he would say to her this time. Had she fulfilled her duty to herself? Had she fulfilled her duty to Narnia? She questioned herself, wondering what he would think.

"Margaret, are you coming?" Annette questioned from the water's edge, instantly pulling Margaret out of her thoughts.

"Yes, I'm coming!" Something in Margaret's head whispered back as she ran. _Yes_, _child._Her own voice did not answer back. She smiled, recognizing the unforgettable sound of Aslan. _Yes._


	21. The Beginning of the End

**Such a crazy summer 2011 has been! But now it must come to a close with the approaching of school (Started today, actually… D:). On the plus side, this story has 98 reviews. JUST TWO AWAY FROM 100! I know you guys can put MistroStrings and me up into the three digits. You're all so wonderful! Thanks so much for all of those lovely reviews (and one not-so-lovely one that has been removed… teehee). Keep the reviews coming, we adore every single one :)**

**~MisticLight**

**P.S. Yeah, since I wrote the authors not I'll be writing the chapter. Just in case someone didn't pick that up ;)**

~.~.~.~.

Telmarines were crossing the river from every direction, freely giving up their weapons to the surrounding Narnians. Instructions of what to do and promises of safety could be heard from across the bank, where Annette and the approaching Margaret stood. Directly across from the duo, Peter, Susan, Caspian, and Edmund could be seen making their way through the water and onto the opposite embankment.

"What do you suppose we do once we get to Aslan?" Annette questioned as soon as Margaret reached her side.

Being tentative herself, Margaret didn't quite have an answer for Annette. Her eyes remained fixed upon her four companions as they made their way to Aslan and Lucy. Each one of them bowed before the mighty Lion, showing their respect and giving thanks. Aslan grinned, not only easing the four but also enlightening Margaret. "I suppose we'll do just that." She proudly affirmed before taking a bold step into the clear water. Trailing directly behind her was the still indecisive Annette.

The friends waded across the river in silence. They each had different thoughts on their mind, but one common feeling expanded across the two of them: uncertainty. They didn't know whether or not to join the others, seeing as they weren't necessarily considered _'royals'_ in Narnia. Susan had reassured them earlier that they should see Aslan, but there was still that daunting feeling. What had they done to receive an audience with him? Besides being from England, they weren't any different from the heroic Narnians. So why them?

These questions lingered in Annette's mind even more than Margaret's. She still doubted she had fulfilled her duty, and those positive thoughts she held before were slowly diminishing. "What if Aslan doesn't _want_ to speak with us?" Her meek voice was barely heard despite the smooth flow of the water. "What if we didn't accomplish what he sent us out to do?"

Margaret had to stop walking altogether so the sloshes she made in the water wouldn't drown out Annette. She didn't utter a single word until her friend came up on her right side. Aslan had mentally answered Margaret's questions, but what about Annette? Judging from her expression, Margaret had to assume Annette hadn't had that same experience. She didn't want to question her, just in case this dampened her spirits, so she decided to grab Annette's hand and offer a comforting squeeze. "Whatever happens, we'll find out together."

Although frightened, Annette nodded her head. She knew Margaret would stand by her until the end, just as she would for her. A wave of confidence suddenly washed over Annette, one that made her stance take a more dignified position. Her head was held high and an unhesitant foot took a determined step forward. A small smile crossed Margaret's face, the resentful feelings from before the war now nonexistent.

They pushed forward, noting that they were almost to the other side by now. So close, in fact, that they could hear the low rumble of Aslan as he spoke to their kneeling friends. His face wore a proud smile and his eyes sparkled with the love he held for his people. His soft fur shined especially bright since they were now outside in the sunlight rather than inside the dimly lit How. Aslan appeared to be more glorious now than ever before.

Margaret was the first to emerge from the water, doing so just as all but Caspian rose to their feet. She questioned the peculiar sight, but didn't pay much attention to it. Something far more important had distracted her; something that caused her to frown down at her feet. "Annette, I am not pleased."

Annette, who was letting the water somewhat clean out the cut on her right hand, glanced up at her. She pushed her damp brown hair away from her face and scanned her friend from top to bottom, not finding anything out of the ordinary. "What are you talking about?" She shook the water off before walking onto the bank.

"Look at this!" Margaret complained, pointing to the bottom of her green dress. "It's _soaking_ wet and sticking to me." She tried pulling her dress away from her skin, but it merely flopped back to its original place. The frown on Margaret's face became more prominent.

"Oh come on." Annette sighed with a roll of her eyes. She grabbed Margaret by the hand and pulled, or rather dragged, her the rest of the way. Margaret ferociously her legs, trying to get the sodden fabric away from her. She wasn't very successful at this, and, by the time they reached the others, realized that she'd just have to accept it for now. Supposedly, she was trying to distract herself in any way possible to get away from Aslan. Annette simply giggled at her friend as she eased herself and Margaret between Edmund and the now standing Caspian.

Everyone now looked at the two newcomers, as if expecting something from them. Unsure of what to do, Annette lowered her head and made her best attempt at a curtsy before the Lion. Margaret remained standing, until she realized that her friend was now shorter than her. She quickly followed Annette's lead and created a curtsy of her own.

They remained low to the floor until the calming song of Aslan rang out. "Rise, dear ones." The two rose together, happy to relieve their quivering knees from holding up their bodies. Margaret immediately snapped her head up and stared into the Lion's golden eyes. Her alert, fascinated expression brought a smile to his face. "I see you've truly awoken from your dream, Margaret."

"I was never asleep… just lost within myself." She confidently shifted her eyes around her tight circle of friends. Her gaze only lingered on Edmund. As soon as his brown eyes met her blue ones, she retreated back to Aslan. "Luckily I had some friends to guide me back on the right path." Margaret smirked to herself. "I'm ready for whatever this _crazy_ world decides to throw at me next."

"The closed book you were once afraid to share has now been opened," Aslan seemingly chuckled as Margaret's cheeks began to redden. "And it appears to be brimming with creativity."

"Thank you, sir." She quickly mumbled, lowering her head with embarrassment. In her opinion, Aslan was being far kinder than what she deserved. Nevertheless, she would always be thankful for his guidance and supportive words. They would forever be stored inside her heart.

Aslan pawed at the rocks underneath him before shifting his mighty gaze over to Annette. As soon as his eyes met hers, her's withdrew. Aslan, neither surprised nor impending, tilted his head forward. "Something troubles you, child." Curious eyes fell onto Annette, making her feel all the more uncomfortable. She had avoided looking at Aslan, choosing instead to dart her eyes amongst Peter, Susan, and Caspian. Of course the _one_ time she dared herself to look upon the Lion, he had noticed. He was far too observant with matters such as these, and that's what frightened Annette. She didn't want to anger Aslan with her silly fears. Everyone had seen his power, and she did _not_ want that wrath to be directed towards her.

Margaret saw the discomfort on her friend's face, knowing that Annette was battling herself on what to say. Aslan wouldn't force anything out of her, but she had to speak her mind. However, Margaret couldn't make this decision for her. The best she could do was place her hand on Annette's shoulder and softly smile when she glanced her way. They were in this together.

"I'm just not confident that I've followed your advice." Annette bit her lip, uncertain if she had upset the Lion. She quickly averted her eyes away, not wanting to look at the shame she knew would be on Aslan's face. "Or at least I'm not brave enough to trust that I did."

"The courage others may see in you is useless if you do not first believe it yourself." Annette frowned at Aslan's statement; he was right. "But you have disappointed no one." His relaxing voice put Annette at ease, and intrigued her to the extent that she felt comfortable enough to lift her head back up. She hadn't expected Aslan to continue on, but even more surprising was his expression. His face held pride rather than the shame she had expected.

"How can that be?" She questioned, tilting her head to the side.

"It takes strength to admit your own defeat; a strength seldom come by." Although Aslan's words lightened her heart, Annette still had a persistent feeling that she had not yet fulfilled all he had set her out to do. Judging by the twinkle in the Lion's eyes, Annette knew he sensed her worries. "All things take time. Do not expect everything to be accomplished all at once. More may come your way. Believe in yourself, Annette, and you may find the will to choose your own path."

As Annette smiled at the thought of a second chance to live up to Aslan's expectations, Margaret's ears perked up. _More?_ Her eyes widened at the thought of it. _We just fought through a _war! _What more could there possibly be?_

She wanted to press the matter onto Aslan, but the sound of a very small bagpipe entered her ears. The song was very solemn and could instantly put a frown onto anyone's face. She looked behind her to see a group of mice slowly approaching. At the very front of this sad procession, two mice carried a stretcher. An agonized Reepicheep lay upon it as if this were his deathbed. Margaret felt tears forming in her eyes. How had she missed his injury?

Annette and Caspian side stepped in opposite directions to make way for the creatures. Her heart broke at the sight of Reepicheep's awful condition. Her terrorized eyes shot up to Caspian, trying to find some sort of comfort in his face, but there was nothing he could do. He helplessly gazed back at her until the Mice had passed. He quickly closed the gap between them and grabbed a hold of Annette's hand, all the while keeping his eyes on the wounded soldier. Annette tightly gripped his hand, petrified to see the death of one of her new friends.

As the stretcher was lowered to the ground, Margaret shot forward. _That feisty little mouse can't die now. Not after all this! _There had to be some way she could save him, and Margaret was determined to find it.

Edmund's hand thrust in front of her, blocking any attempt for her to take another step. "Wait." Although tears were threatening to fall, she followed Edmund's instructions.

With wide eyes, she watched as Lucy ran forward. She pulled that same cordial out of its leather pouch. Margaret and Annette had been told it possessed magical healing powers, but they had yet to see it in action. Lucy fell to her knees before pulling the cap off, and, very carefully, allowed for a single drop of the red liquid to fall into Reepicheep's gaping mouth.

Everyone anxiously watched as Reepicheep gulped. The affects of the magical liquid didn't appear to be working, which caused the distressed Annette to tighten her hand. His tiny chest was still moving, but his gasps had yet to die down. The intensity of it all forced Lucy to stand and take a few steps back. She refused to believe that her cordial failed her, but she couldn't help but have the smallest bit of concern dwell in the back of her head.

And then it happened.

With one final gasp, Reepicheep was able to actually pull himself into a seated position. "_Oh!_ … Thank you… Your Majesty." Although his words came slowly, they were still words; something to prove that he was recovering. Instant relief spread throughout the entire company.

Seeing as he was going to be alright, Annette released Caspian's hand. They exchanged a quick glance, one that brought a small blush to her face. But this was not the only glance she received before looking down at the mice. As Annette's attention made its way back to the scene before her, they were able to catch the eye of Susan. At a quick glance, Susan appeared to be fine. But if you looked closer, you could see hurt in her eyes. Annette felt guilty. Even though she had no idea what was playing in Susan's head, she felt as though she had something to do with it.

Margaret watched as the rest mouse leader rose to his feet. She was overjoyed that he was now able to stand, although he was having difficulty balancing. "Look," Edmund suddenly whispered in her ear. Margaret saw his hand subtly point at Reepicheep. "Something's missing." Edmund and Margaret were forced to stifle their giggles when they saw the bob of a tail Reepicheep now had. Best of all, he hadn't noticed yet. He was stumbling forward, trying to reach Aslan.

"Uh… Oh! Hail, Aslan! It is a great honor to be in…" The Mouse attempted a bow, but slipped down to the floor. He looked around him to see what had happened, only to find his tail gone. "Oh!" Margaret amusedly slapped Edmund's arm as she tried to contain her giggles at the shocked mouse. It was getting harder to hold back the laughter, especially since Reepicheep was now circling around to make sure that his tail was, in fact, missing. "I am completely out of continence!" Reepicheep backed away from Aslan, shamefully covering up where his tale used to be. "I must crave your indulgence for appearing in this _unseemly_ fashion!" He looked to Lucy, sniffing up at the bottle. His little eyes pleaded with it before facing the small queen herself. "Uh… perhaps a drop more?"

Lucy sadly eyed the cordial. "I don't think it does that."

"You could have a go…" The small mouse suggested.

All eyes were on Reepicheep, but they instantly readjusted when they heard Aslan chuckle. "It becomes you well, small one."

"All the same, Great King," Reepicheep took a few small steps toward Aslan before pulling out his sword. "I regret that I must withdraw, for a tail is the honor and glory of a Mouse." With the blade resting in his tiny paws, Reepicheep offered his weapon towards Aslan. The giggles Margaret and Edmund held were quickly silenced by Reep's actions. This was the last thing they had wanted.

"Perhaps you think too much of your honor, friend." Aslan intently watched to see just what the mouse would do next. The only sound heard as Reepicheep lowered his blade was a sad sigh from Annette. She wasn't sure how Reepicheep would survive without that sword of his.

"Well, it's… it's not just the honor!" He stated matter-of-factly. "I-It's also great for balance! A-And climbing! And grabbing things!" Lucy and Aslan exchanged bemused smiles as Reepicheep stuttered out _'good'_ reasons for having a tail. What drew their attention away was the sound of multiple swords escaping their scabbards.

"May it please Your High Majesty," One of the more important looking Mice said. Searching through her memory of Narnians, Annette believed his name to be Peepiceek. "We will not bear the shame of wearing an honor denied to our chief." Each and every Mouse placed their sword along their tail, which was quickly followed by a small chuckle from Aslan. It appeared as though the Lion knew something the others did not.

"They're going to cut their own tails off!" Margaret gasped, unable to grasp the knowledge of this. "Mice should always have those strange, little tails!"

"Margaret!" Annette scolded, caught up with the gravity of it all. "Now is _not_ the time."

"Their swords are _on_ their tails, Annette. I don't see how _'now is not the time'_ to discuss this." Margaret mocked Annette's voice, only earning a glare from her friend. Over the tops of their heads, Caspian and Edmund exchanged amused smiles. If Aslan was able to laugh over the Mice threatening to cut off their tails, then why shouldn't they be able to smirk over two close friends having a minor spat?

"Not for the sake of your dignity, but for the love of your people…" Aslan's amused eyes suddenly became very tight. The wind blew about his golden mane, but he remained transfixed on something off in the distance. Without any warning, Reepicheep's tail slithered back to its original size.

Annette gasped, her green eyes nearly bulging out of her head. "Oh my…"

Margaret looked from Annette's expression to Reepicheep's tail. "Why couldn't he have done that before?" She muttered beneath her breath.

Annette could only shake her head. "Oh, Maragaret!" Their bickerment was instantly forgotten.

"Oh ho _ho_! Look!" Reepicheep laughed, grasping his new tail. He excitedly spun around, showing it off to everyone. "Thank you! Thank you, my Liege!" He bowed down before Aslan. "I will treasure it always. From this day forward, it will serve as a great reminder of my _huge_ humility." He sheathed his sword amongst the giggles of those around him. No one could doubt his strength, despite his size.

"_Now_," Aslan boomed, directing his attention to Lucy. "Where is this dear little friend you've told me so much about?"

Slowly, everyone turned their heads to the left. Trumpkin had been assigned to help point the Telmarines in the right direction. As if sensing what was going on, the Dwarf stopped what he was doing and walked over towards the awaiting Lion. His pace was slow, almost dreading every step he took.

He kneeled before Aslan, sticking his sword in the dirt. Aslan stood, eyeing the Dwarf with a playful expression. His eyes sparkled, and Annette immediately sensed what he was about to do. She took an anxious step forward, making sure she would be able to have a clear view of the Dwarf's expression. Margaret, whose view was now blocked, quickly strode to her friend's side.

Aslan took a very short breath before releasing one of his mighty roars. Trumpkin flinched away from the bellowing growl. Some wind was mustered up from the outtake, and it was clearly shown from the sudden movement of his beard.

"Do you see him _now_?" Lucy sarcastically inquired. The panting Trumpkin briefly made eye contact with his friend. He doubted ever questioning Aslan's existence.

He wasn't the only one to flinch though. Annette noticed Margaret had a similar reaction. It was very subtle, but she definitely twitched a little. "That's what you get for not believing in Aslan." She nudged her friend.

"Oh, be quiet." Margaret pushed back. She had just denied her belief in Aslan a few moments before their first encounter with him, and she refused to believe that this was a sort of punishment. "I was startled, that's all."

Annette didn't say anything. She just smiled, knowing that from now on everything was going to be perfect.

~.~.~.~.

The ride back to the castle was far more pleasing than when they retreated from it days before. Everyone was in much higher spirits and happily chatted about different topics, especially their individual adventures during battle. The pleasant weather only added to the merriment of the Narnians on that glorious day. The sun brightly shined down upon them, and a soft breeze easily blew away any displeasure it may have brought. Margaret and Annette, who now had a horse of their very own, courtesy of the Telmarines, had to fight off the temptation to race one another. Before they had entered Narnia, they would have done this without a second thought. This land, although keeping the mind bubbling with imagination, had a way of maturing those who entered it.

Nothing special was planned for their first arrival back at the castle. Everyone was too beat-up and weary from the day's events. Not to mention the citizens needed time to meddle over the outcome of this revolution. But there was to be a parade in a couple of days; accepting and celebrating the Narnians success. So, without much commotion, Peter and Caspian led the way into the castle.

As soon as they entered through the gate, Peter stopped his horse and gazed about the open room. This was the exact same spot all those Narnians were when they had to be left behind. Peter was hurt, but he was not without friends. His siblings, Caspian, Annette, and Margaret stayed behind to offer their silent support. They were all upset. Not with Peter, but with the cruel acts of Miraz himself. Minutes passed before Peter looked back at them. His face was twisted with anger and grief, but he kept his expression as placid as he could manage.

"We've put a stop to this," He choked out with a husky voice. "That's all the matters." They all nodded in agreement, knowing that the brave Narnians who died there would never be forgotten. More silence passed before Peter took a deep breath and faced Caspian. "Where did you say we'd be staying?"

The Prince hopped off his horse. Someone ran from the shadows to collected it seconds later. "If you'll follow me…"

After all the horses were gathered, Caspian led the way through the castle. There were two separate wings they were to occupy, and each person was to have their very own room. The first wing was for the girls and the second for the boys. They each parted their separate ways, but before leaving, Caspian assured that, just for tonight, none would be disturbed until they summoned for someone. He explained that they had to save up energy for the soon-to-be busy week.

Susan and Lucy's rooms were on the left side, while Annette and Margaret's were opposite. The rooms on either side were connected by a single doorway, so Margaret and Annette could pop into the other's room whenever they pleased. There was also a rather large bed and lavatory all to itself. To top it all off, a small balcony hung off each room. Margaret and Annette's rooms had a view of the inside of the castle rather than the beautiful view Susan and Lucy had, but the two friends were elated nonetheless. Each of the girls, with unnecessary yet stubborn assistance, changed into their sleeping attire, collapsed on the bed, and quickly fell fast asleep.

~.~.~.~.

When Annette awoke the following morning, she thought herself back in England. She hadn't slept in a proper bed for what seemed like _ages_, and the sudden ache in her body easily assured her she shouldn't forget how fortunate she was. Her comfort and sense of belonging temporarily made her forget about Narnia, but then images started to spur. The final battle, the General sparing her, unforgiving waters, Aslan, Caspian… it all came back. Annette snapped her eyes open and flung herself into a sitting position. Her eyes had to adjust to the gloom of the room before she could relax her rapidly beating heart. She was, in fact, still in Narnia.

The darkness unexpectedly filled with light and an overly chirpy, "Good morning!" bounced off the walls. The cloth in front of the window had been drawn away, revealing a grinning Margaret. Annette blinked away her sudden blindness.

"What are you doing up?" She sluggishly asked, now trying to block off the sun by holding her hand in front of her face. She pushed the covers away with her other hand and slid off the bed. "You always awake after me."

"Well, actually, I just got up and decided to see you." Margaret beamed before her eyes suddenly grew. "Besides, it's almost noon. We've been sleeping for nearly twelve hours!"

Annette remembered that when they arrived yesterday, there was only a hint of nighttime descending upon the day. The glow of the sun hadn't even gone out yet. Her nose crinkled; never before had Annette slept so much. "Battles certainly drain your energy."

"Do they ever!" Margaret exclaimed, opening up the doors leading to the balcony and stepping outside. She didn't care about going out with her sleeping attire on. "I don't know if it's because of the sleep, but I feel absolutely fantastic! True, I have sores all over, especially from where the armor was, but everything just feels amazing!" She babbled all the way to the railing at the edge of the balcony. "I mean, you _know_ I'm not a morning person. But I'm just so excited! Our first day in Narnia _without_ having to worry about an invasion."

She peered to the grounds below. There wasn't much going around in the courtyard, but through the windows across from her, Margaret saw a few servants bustling about. Most appeared to be carrying food, probably preparing for lunch, but a few carried some watering cans and flowers. She followed one of the servants, vowing to discover if there was a garden she could walk through.

"When I first awoke, I was afraid we had been sent back to England!" Annette said, leaning against the railing next to Margaret. She looked across the castle grounds, clearly relieved to still be where she was. Her expression made Margaret a little nervous.

"Annette," Margaret began twiddling with her hands. She remained quite for a long while as she collected her thoughts. "Do you even _want _to go back home?"

Annette scanned Margaret's face before honestly answering her. "Not really… do you?"

"Well, no." Margaret replied. She rested her cheek upon her folded hands and stared up at Annette. "I quite love it here. I'm just worried about my parents. I know they were never really around, but still… they're family... and I miss them."

"They were kind enough to take me in. Even if they are gone all the time, they're caring people." Annette stared straight at Margaret, her bright eyes suddenly dimming. "But what do I have back home in England?"

"You have me." Margaret meekly said with hurt lining her voice. She held her friend's gaze for a few moments before shifting away from her. Annette latched onto her hair and darted her eyes away. She had slipped up.

Birds happily chirped from a nearby tree, their song highly unfitting for the silence befalling the two friends. None of them felt the urge to leave, but no one wished to pick up the conversation either However, they couldn't just start it up again in a few hours. It was an unsettling discussion that needed to have some sort of mutual feeling before either of them could walk away.

With a heavy sigh, Annette brought an end to the unwanted silence. "Being in this land… I don't know… The only way I can even _think_ to describe it is by calling it surreal." Her eyes scanned the rail as more words formed in her head. "We were unexpectedly thrust into this adventure, and we've each had our fair share of experiences. Although it may seem dreamlike at times, Narnia _is_ real. It always has been and it always will be." Margaret turned her head back to Annette, catching her eye. "But Margaret, you _are_ my family. No matter how far we may be, that bond cannot be broken."

Without anything else needing to be said, Margaret rushed over to Annette and embraced her. With just those words, Annette had proven how much Margaret meant to her. No tears were shed, even after their hug came to an end. They were strong enough to sense the emotion without it having to be displayed. They were sisters. Although it wasn't by blood, anyone could tell just by glancing at them. What lay behind their eyes spoke the truth for them.

Unlike their first silence, this pause in conversation was much more peaceful. There were smiles on their faces, and the birds' melody added to the pleasantness of it all. However, these cherished silences must be treasured because they are usually stopped at a much faster rate. This time, it was by the growling of someone's stomach.

"_Margaret!_" Annette teased. "You're never hungry at this hour."

"Well, I'm sorry!" She replied while grabbing her stomach. "We've been living on a _very_ limited diet for such a long time, and then we go and miss breakfast!"

Annette simply shook her head, not wanting to admit how rapidly her appetite was now growing. "There's probably a feast awaiting us. Just look at what they're carrying!" She pointed at two servants moving a large tray, its contents remaining a secret for the time being. Margaret didn't really care though. She walked back into Annette's room and headed straight for the exit, only stopping when he heard a shout from behind her. "_But_, being in a castle, we must wash up."

"Annette, we're just eating with friends." Margaret defended, turning to face her. "I really don't see why I can't go in this. I'm comfortable." She smirked when she saw a quick change in Annette's face. In that brief moment, she knew Annette had the same though. "Come on, we can change afterwards."

Margaret pulled on her friend's hand, but Annette just yanked it away. "No, Margaret."

"And why not?"

"Well, first of all, let me emphasize that we are in a _castle!_"

"Yeah, yeah." Margaret flapped her hand. "I need a better reasoning."

Annette flipped her hair back and smiled; she had plenty more reasons for Margaret. "Second, coming to a feast in our sleeping attire is not proper in the least. Third, we haven't properly bathed in _days_, and that's just disgusting. Fourth, we're all scratched and bruised. I mean, look at this!" Here, Annette opened up the palm of her right hand to reveal her nasty scrape.

Margaret grimaced. "No, Annette. _That's_ just disgusting."

"_Finally,_" She continued with a smirk, ignoring Margaret's statement. "And this one's just for you, don't forget that one of our friends is _Edmund_."

"… I hate you, sometimes." Margaret glared behind a scrunched nose, her cheeks turning bright red despite it being just the two of them.

"I'm sure you do." Annette further teased with a giggle.

The longer she laughed, the more Margaret glared. She was hoping this would quickly silence her, but, after a while, that seemed like an impossible thought. So Margaret stomped away from her immature, giggling friend and entered her own chambers. Hopefully Annette would be all sorted out by lunch. Perhaps then, in a subtle way just like Annette had done, Margaret could strike back.


	22. Little Certainty

**Hello everyone. Mistro here, and I apologize for taking a long while to update. I've been very busy, though I know that excuse is not a welcomed one. However! The chapter is finally here, and I do admit… it's a bit bland. But, nothing's TERRIBLY bland in NARNIA, aye? So, enjoy, rate, comment, hate, dance- etc.**

**FOR NARNIA,**

**~Mistro**

~.~.~.~.~.~

Margaret slipped into her private room, eyeing the carefully organized wooden furniture. The sun glistened in from a nearby window, but somehow the place seemed gloomy. She thought back to the men and women who used to live in this castle, and the mere thought of a dead warrior's room as her own became unsettling.

With much haste, she rushed over to the bed and pulled the thick, brown covers off and sent them tossing to the floor with a _thud_. She shivered as she looked down at them. A dead man slept on those sheets. _Well, _she thought with a wince, _I'm not positive of that. But, one can never be too sure._

"Margaret!" She heard Annette's voice ring out from behind her closed door. It took her by surprise, only causing her to shiver more. "I was only poking a bit of fun earlier. You'll still come down for the feast, won't you?" Her friend's voice was concerned, but Margaret would no doubt make this a challenge. If Annette wanted to tease, Margaret would only return the gesture. She had a trick up her sleeve. But, she would keep that a secret and act normally. Annette couldn't be suspicious.

"Of course!" Margaret breezily laughed. "I'm just going to change, like you suggested. We have to look elegant in honor of the victory. I will meet you down in the dining hall."

Annette said nothing, but offered a smile behind the closed door. She then left Margaret alone in her chambers. Her friend was not upset with her, Narnians had taken victory, and maybe… just maybe, she would get to stay here. The thought flashed through her mind, causing her to grow more and more desirous of its outcome. But, she would keep it quiet for now. She didn't want Margaret to become distraught. And, truthfully, she still wasn't sure of her true wishes.

In the other room, Margaret was still disgusted with her new accommodations. Everywhere she looked, she felt discomfort. _What if a dead man's wife used that hairbrush? What if a dead man walked on these floors? _She shrieked, and jumped on top of the bed. _What if he slept on this bed?_

"Oh, who am I kidding?" She shouted out loud, kicking a pillow towards the wall in frustration. "There's nothing I can do about it now." Her voice dropped to an agitated mumble before she carried herself over to the dresser. "If I just get dressed and get out of here, that will make it all the better." She pulled back the cold handle on the stained-wooden chest. Her mouth dropped instantly as an array of colorful gowns spilled out before her. She felt herself twitch just looking at them, wondering which one would go best with her fair hair. She slowly began peeling a dress back; one at a time so she could get a good look. But the more she saw, the more beautiful they became, and the more indecisive she grew.

Through her grins, she let out a heart-filled laugh, scooping a periwinkle dress out and pressing it against herself with affection. All of her clothes back in England had been simple, flowered dresses. They were unflattering and cheap. She owned nothing but those and her school uniform. Her mother liked her looking elegant, but not so much so that boys took notice of her. Margaret was a prude girl in that sense, but the thought of a young boy admiring her... Well, it was enough to break her mother's promises.

After all, her mother had broken so many of her own.

She slipped on the periwinkle dress with haste. Its shimmering lace neckline and waistband only made her figure more flattering. Margaret bit down on her bottom lip as she gazed in a mirror. _I look pretty, _she thought to herself. It was a very unfamiliar thought, but Margaret finally felt beautiful.

~.~.~.~.~.~

Annette had been much more sensible than Margaret, as she was in most cases, when it came to picking out a dress. She entered her room, approached her cabinet, pulled out a lilac gown, and tossed it on. She knew what she wanted to wear the moment she saw it. There was no debate, and after a quick glance at herself in a nearby mirror, she knew she made the right decision. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt utterly beautiful. And somewhere even farther back, she wished others would think so too when she entered the hall. No doubt Susan and Lucy would look charming. But, Annette hadn't tried often. Neither had Margaret. _Perhaps just this once, _Annette thought, _we can afford to take compliments._

Slippers were laid out for her by her door. She pulled them onto her small feet before twirling delicately just like a young girl. The palace courtyard awaited her.

Nothing was going to break her spirits this day.

~.~.~.~.~

"It's disagreeable," Reepicheep spoke up as the entire party gathered at lunch. "…that we should have nothing to do all day!" He sighed, swallowing what was left of his cheese. "I was rather enjoying all of the excitements of battle! At last, my pride had reasoning. Visible reasoning, at that."

Margaret smiled behind her biscuit. She could not helping thinking of how much she would miss her dear friends upon her leaving. They had been nothing but kind to her since she arrived. Except for Peter. At the moment however, she pushed the thought aside and replied sincerely; "You shouldn't worry about that, Reep. We all saw your heroism the day you attacked us in the woods. And no doubt would we ever mistake you for a liar." The kind words seemed to put the Mouse at ease, and he leaned back against a pot of warm stew laid upon the table.

Margaret and Reepicheep's conversation was one out of perhaps forty different speeches, and all of them flowing in multiple places throughout the room. The Telmarine dining hall was as big as a ballroom and decorated just as beautifully. Banners hung near the ceiling, and unrecognizable flowers were draped across the pillars. Though Margaret and Annette were seated at different tables across the room, the two friends never failed in sneaking a smile to one another from time to time.

Annette had seated herself beside Caspian and Susan, at the latter's expressed wish. She was hesitant to leave her friend after their bickering that morning, but Margaret had urged her with a nudge and wink. Inside, Annette was thanking her repeatedly. She had spoken little since she had sat down for the feast, but listened with an attentive ear as she often did.

"I hope Aslan returns soon," Lucy laughed as she poked something on her plate with her fork. "He was there for such a short amount of time. I was so happy to see him!" She could barely contain her excitement. Peter laughed and placed a calming hand on her shoulder.

"No doubt he will, Lu," he said affectionately. "He's sure to be roaming around the castle somewhere."

Annette grinned, hoping this was true. Aslan had indeed come late, but he came and that was all that mattered. Without his help, who could have predicted the outcome? The Telmarines themselves could very well be dining in victory. Thanks to Aslan, they were not.

"Tell me, Annette," Susan's voice rang out, taking her by surprise. "In England, what year are you?"

The question seemed out of place, and something bothered Annette with the mentioning of England. Her eyes instinctively caught Caspian's. He seemed to pause in his eating and grimly stare down at his plate. Was he upset about her leaving? Or, was she imagining his discomfort? When she hesitated to answer, his eyes met hers with struggle. She read the question behind them. _Must you be going back?_

_Not soon, I hope, _she answered, hoping that somehow he could hear her. "I am nearly done," she finally answered, though very faint. "Sixth form. I have one year left. Things must be very hectic in England right now, I suppose… with the war going on and what not."

"Absolutely," Susan sighed. "It's a shame that we have to return to that. I'm hoping to travel to America, however." She spoke as though she never even thought of returning to Narnia. Who could think like that after being here only a minute? The place, though only hours ago shrouded in war, was a paradise.

"It wouldn't be such a shame to return to if I was allowed to enlist," Edmund said in a hushed tone. "Little do they know that I have more experience than the majority of the men accepted."

"Those men wield a gun, Ed," Peter chuckled. "You're skill is with the sword."

"Must we speak of England?" Lucy bitterly cried. "I don't want to be talking about war anymore, _or_ England. I just want to eat as much as I possibly can, and make every minute here last." The elder Pevensies exchanged glances with one another. Of course Lucy would not want to leave. Narnia was her home, and always would be. They all knew that it had to happen though.

Edmund said nothing to this, and instead rose from the table in discomfort. "I'm going to go visit Margaret," he said plainly. The other Pevensies smiled at this, forgetting their previous worries. They had never seen Edmund quite as taken with anyone than he was with that fair-haired girl.

Caspian then set down his fork and dropped his napkin into his lap. He gave a small smile to everyone at the table, but when he spoke his voice sounded bitter. "I do hope, though your country is calling, that you can all stay a little while longer." Annette bit her bottom lip; afraid to answer incorrectly and upset him. "I do have many preparations to take care of, however, and I'm sure you won't mind me excusing myself for a brief time."

His eyes momentarily locked with Annette's, and then he left. The Pevensies all agreed they had never seen him so stirred, but they paid little attention to it and instead continued on with their joyful mood and happier topics. Annette remained quiet in her seat, her face beginning to grow hot. Was he talking about her? Did he _want_ her to stay? She was afraid to get up and speak to him. He seemed to need some time to himself. So she slowly finished off her meal, only imagining what Caspian could have been thinking.

In the meantime, Edmund had made his way swiftly over to Margaret. Since Reepicheep had been too small for his seat beside her, Edmund easily claimed it. She seemed shocked to see him; her blue eyes growing wide. "Hello, Edmund," she said simply after finishing a gulp of her Narnian refreshment. "I'm pleased to see you're in good spirits." She could tell he was upset about something, but decided to ignore it for the sake of the happy occasion.

"I was thinking about England," he said as he slumped into his seat. "About how we probably have to go back soon, and how I'm never going to get into the army with a childish face such as mine." Margaret smiled to herself. She thought his face handsome, in its own way, but would not express that feeling through words. "I suppose I'm just wondering what I'm going to do with myself when we go home."

"I think the very same, and no doubt Annette does too. The war will continue to rage on. My parents will not be at home. And, if Annette does return with me, I fear that she'll grow anxious and want to return somehow." Her eyes made her way over to her friend, who had been looking rather gloomy since Caspian's exit. "She's… very taken with him."

Edmund crunched his brows together, obviously confused as a typical, unobservant boy would be. "With whom?"

"Prince Caspian."

He laughed at this and nodded briskly, "Ah, yes. That was obvious, wasn't it? They both know it, yet they're hesitant." Something about the words Edmund spoke made Margaret begin to feel uncomfortable. She and Edmund had a connection too. She hoped so much it hadn't faded. For her, it certainly hadn't. He often preoccupied her mind, and though it drove her mad sometimes, she just couldn't stop it. "Do you think she'll go back?"

"Yes," Margaret answered quickly. "Well, I can't be certain. But…" Her voice trailed off. Would she sound greedy and selfish if she said she needed Annette to come back to England? Annette was her whole family; her only friend besides the newly befriended Pevensies. Margaret wouldn't know how to handle herself without Annette. It was that simple.

"Well," Edmund said a bit softer after realizing Margaret's anxiety. "I'm sure you two will talk about things. She's an agreeable person. I'm sure she has her senses still intact." And with that, he bit into an orange and offered her a genuine smile. Margaret accepted it heartily. Edmund always seemed to know how to make her feel better.

~.~.~.~.~

The feast lasted for hours, and both Margaret and Annette ate more than they cared to admit. Annette passed the entire day without seeing Caspian, and not because she wished to. She searched for him regularly, but found him nowhere. Inside, she suspected him to be hiding from her. _You look into situations too much; _Annette scolded herself as she gazed out from her bedroom window; the sky beginning to turn pink with sunset. _He's probably just busy._

Margaret noticed her friend's struggling throughout the course of the day. When she returned to her chambers later that evening to change into something less elaborate, she looked out her window, surprised to see Caspian sitting on the edge of a marble fountain. Her brows rose with curiosity, and she instantly felt the need to speak with him.

Swiftly, she made her way down across the courtyard and into the castle gardens where she had seen him sitting. The gardens were a lovely area of the palace, and one that was little known to the Narnians and even the Telmarines. It added a haunting beauty to the place, and Margaret felt serene upon entering it. She stared at Caspian for a moment behind a rose bush, waiting for the proper moment to oppress conversation upon him.

"Caspian?" She said, finally emerging from behind the bush. "I'm surprised to see you here. I was just in my room and thought I needed some air."

He was startled at the sound of his name, but upon seeing Margaret, he relaxed a bit. "This is certainly a fantastic place for that," he said softly. He patted the spot beside him with a friendly air, and Margaret gladly made her way over. The two had hardly had a private conversation since the girls had arrived, and Margaret was adamant to make it worthwhile.

What neither of them knew, however, was that Edmund had also decided to step outside for some fresh air. However, upon noticing Margaret and Caspian in the midst of what seemed to be an engaging conversation, he ducked behind a lilac bush and made sure to keep himself hidden. He was eavesdropping, but he felt little shame. It was something he was rather good at.

And what _none_ of them knew was that Annette loved the sunset more than anything, and knew the gardens would be the best view for that occasion. She had heard about the gardens from a local Telmarine, and was excited to take a stroll through them. She was making her way down a small path, when she noticed Edmund crouching behind a shrubbery. "Edmund?" She questioned aloud.

He jumped in place, spinning around on his heels. He shushed Annette and beckoned her over to him. "Come and join me. I'm listening in on Caspian and Margaret."

"They're here?" She whispered back, surprised. Then she realized what he was doing was unjust, despite his Narnian title as 'Edmund the Just'. _Ironic, _she chuckled darkly to herself before turning stern. "Edmund, there's no need for that. I'm sure they're not speaking of anything engaging that we can't know about."

"Look at their faces. Tell me that they're not going to be speaking of something interesting."

Annette peered through the branches in the bush and noticed the somber, yet intense expressions both her friends wore. They certainly _looked _engaged. "Alright," she muttered, giving in. "Perhaps we could listen in for a moment…"

It was Margaret who eventually started the conversation. "You've been very sneaky all day," she smiled after sitting down. "Annette was worried. She had seen very little of you. She thought you might be upset with her." Annette felt herself twitch at the sound of her name. Margaret was just going to tell him that so openly? Why?

Caspian seemed taken aback by this. "Annette worried about me?"

"Well, naturally."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she always thinks of you," Margaret replied. "If you haven't noticed that yet, Caspian, I fear you never will." Annette's cheeks began to grow hot. Why was Margaret spilling her secret feelings to him? And right in front of her? Granted Margaret didn't know she was listening in, but still. Margaret was supposed to keep secrets _secret_. Not openly tell them to the person they were about!

Caspian seemed flustered by this, and struggled to find the correct words to answer. Edmund could sense the tension between all of three of them, and decided it was time for a suggestion. "What if we scare them?" He whispered, raising a brow. "At the moment, it seems like Margaret at least deserves it."

Annette wore a scowl on her face as she gravely nodded her head. "Do what you wish, Edmund. I hope she falls back into the water. She's as good as a wet cat to me at the moment."

"Brilliant," Edmund laughed. Slowly, he slipped a dagger out from his pocket. He pointed it out before him, took a deep breath, and then bolted upright from behind the bush. Caspian and Margaret didn't notice him until he spoke. "_How dare you peasants walk around my gardens_!" He shouted defiantly. Margaret, however, could hardly hear his sentence finish. She began to scream at his second word and, in her shock, jumped; her body flying backwards into the fountain. She didn't fail to grab Caspian's sleeve and pull him in with her either.

Edmund's face dropped as he saw both of them tumble in. "Well," he called to Annette. "She fell in, alright. She just wasn't alone."

Annette stood upright from behind the plant, surprised to see both Caspian and her friend spitting out water from their soaked mouths. Every part of them was covered in water, and Margaret didn't waste a second in calling them out for it. "You sneaky, little-!" She stopped herself short, in fear that she would say something dishonorable. Edmund allowed himself to laugh out loud at her displeasure, though he found it charming and admittedly adorable.

Caspian slowly pushed a strand of wet hair away from his face. His face held less concern than Margaret's, and all three of them were surprised when he let loose a flowing laugh. "Well, I certainly wasn't expecting my day to end like this."

Annette felt her cheeks grow hot when she caught him smiling at her. With a frown, she turned her eyes to the ground. Not knowing what to do in the situation, she began to walk away. "Annette, wait…" Caspian muttered softly, pulling himself out of the fountain. He rushed over to her, water spilling off every inch of him. He placed a wet hand on her shoulder, not caring anymore about his appearance, but only about her. "Can I speak with you? Will you allow me to?"

She finally let herself look up towards him as she blinked in surprise. His chest was heaving, perhaps from shock and lack of air. Drops of water dripped from his eyelashes, somehow adding a sparkle to his undoubtedly charming face. She could feel her own chest heaving. What hold did he have over her? How could she describe it? She was always nervous around the handsome Prince, and even more so with his hand locked onto her shoulder. "In all honesty," she murmured. "I've been trying to speak with you all day."

Caspian's face twisted in regret. "I know. I realize this now. I was locking myself away for foolish, selfish reasons. I should have been out celebrating," he paused for a moment, attempting to offer her a small smile. "…with you." His hand dropped from her shoulder. Though his hand was wet, he slid it into Annette's and squeezed it tightly. His thumb brushed the back of her hand gently, a sign of affection she was grateful for.

Annette could not resist smiling back at him anymore. "Come inside," she said, tugging at his wet sleeve with her other hand. "Get dressed into something warmer. Then, we shall talk."

Edmund had rushed over to Margaret shortly after Caspian had walked away with Annette. Margaret only looked at him with contempt as Edmund offered his hand to help pull her out from the fountain. "I've already had a dress clinging to me once before," she spat at him angrily. "I wasn't too keen about it the first time, and I'm certain that I'm still not."

"Give me your hand," he laughed, despite her anger. "I'll help pull you out. Then you can wear my jacket."

She stood in the fountain, her wet arms crossed firmly over her chest. She stared at Edmund for what seemed like ages, until she finally slid her hand in his. He began to smile, until he felt a sharp tug on his arm. Margaret had the power now, and she didn't waste a second to pull him right in the water with her. He gasped as he stumbled, but regained his balance before he could fall in head first. "You say _I'm_ sneaky?" He laughed, tossing water up into her face.

She was no longer mad, and cheerful laughter escaped her lips. "You are, and you deserve every bit of this!" She slashed her fingers through the top of the water, spraying him even more. This continued for a while, both of them chasing one another, determined to get the other even more soaked than what they already were. After a while, Edmund finally caught hold of her arm and held it tightly in his hand.

"No more splashing," he chuckled. "Or we'll both get sick and have to sleep through the parade, the ball, _and_ the ceremony."

She nodded, though she couldn't resist flicking excess water off her fingers and into his face. He shook his head towards her, admiring her sudden playfulness. "Alright," she muttered, her arms still in his grasp. "I promise. No more splashing."

"Do you really?"

"Yes, Edmund, _I promise._"

"Good," Edmund laughed, releasing his hold on her. "Now, go upstairs and change into something warm. I would hate to see you get sick."

There was that feeling again; one that Margaret had never felt before. It was a secure feeling, and she didn't want it to disappear. Without much thought, she stepped closer to Edmund as he began to pull away. She pressed her lips to his wet cheek, keeping them there for a long moment. "I should say the same for you," she whispered to him, before ruffling his wet hair and rushing back off towards her room.

Needless to say, Margaret and Annette's day ended far better than expected.

~.~.~.~.~

**Should we make a sequel?**


	23. Two's Company

**I can't even begin to express my apologies of taking so long! It's been about two months now, yes? Oh man, you have my permission to kill me… especially if this chapter hasn't lived up to your expectations. It's a bit slow. Again, I am terribly sorry for the wait!**

**In other news, I really wanted to post something today (November 22nd—assuming that fanfiction refreshed the page as soon as I posted this because in all honesty I posted this on said date) because on this day, about 48 years ago, the great author of C.S. Lewis passed away. I just hope that this small chapter based off of the series and characters he loved so well can make some sort of impact to the greatness of his life. We still love you very much, C.S. Lewis, and miss you more and more with each passing day.**

**Enjoy this chapter! Furthermore, to continue off of Mistrostrings' previous exclamation, AND FOR ASLAN!**

**~MisticLight**

~.~.~.~.

Annette and Caspian strolled down the corridors of the castle, their hands intertwined within the other. Caspian's hand was still rather wet from the fountain incident a few moments before, and his clothes were soaked from the top of his drenched cream shirt to the bottom of his brown boots. Every so often the Prince would shiver, to which Annette responded with a concerned-filled glance. However, Caspian would simply act as though nothing had happen and carried on with their light conversation.

"So…" Annette almost hesitated after eyeing another one of Caspian's shivers. "Is that really the reasoning behind naming your horse Destrier? Because you wanted his name to correspond with its meaning of war horse?"

"In all reality, my Uncle wanted me to use him for combat. I just wanted to go on an adventure like the Pevensie's had during their Golden Age," he replied with a chuckle that sent Annette's heart aflutter. She forced herself to look away so as not to blush in front of him. "I heard so many stories about them when I was younger, all of which were told in secret. They were all fairytale characters in my mind, and I wanted to be a part of them."

"Well I suppose you've gotten exactly what you wished for. Although I imagine it's rather bizarre interacting with a historical figure." Caspian eagerly nodded his head in confirmation while his eyes widened in size. Annette giggled at his sudden childish expression before continuing on, "I know that if Queen Elizabeth were to suddenly appear next to me, I wouldn't even be able to speak!"

Caspian raised his eyebrows with the mention of an unfamiliar name. "Queen Elizabeth?"

"Oh, she was the Queen of England at one point." Annette quickly explained herself, feeling rather foolish for forgetting Caspian had no idea who this woman was. "As in she was the ruler of my country. I rather enjoyed learning about her in history class."

Annette glanced at Caspian through the corner of her eyes. She could tell he was deep in thought, trying to figure out the differences between these two worlds. His eyes were slightly narrowed with bewilderment, and his free hand scratched the bottom of his chin. Annette thought he looked a little ridiculous, especially since his hair was still dripping wet. She had to hold back her giggles though, afraid he would mistakenly take it for her laughing at his confusion.

"It's a pity the Pevensie's are not also Kings and Queens in your world," he offered after a lengthy pause. "If they stayed here, they'd warmly be offered to rule again."

"You mean advise." Annette jumped in rather crossly. This was not a question, it was a statement.

Her sudden switch in tone made Caspian twitch, but he didn't release her hand. Just as quickly as Annette had spoken, she was spiting out apologies. "Sorry! I didn't even realize that I… what I really meant was…" She rotated her eyes around the room, looking at anything other than Caspian. Her vision only rested when they befell upon the approaching turn they would have to partake in shortly. "I guess I assumed you would automatically be the next King… that's all."

Caspian chuckled at Annette's frazzled speaking. He actually didn't mind when she accidentally changed emotions, especially when she offered a jumbled apology afterwards. In fact, he found this behavior of hers endearing. It made speaking with her all the more interesting and special.

"No, you are correct with your thinking, Annette. They'd only hold a superior position as the High Kings and Queens of Narnia. I'm sure you and Margaret could be placed in some sort of ruling position as well!" He paused as they had reached the end of the corridor, "Well… if you stayed."

Annette's hand instantly found her hair. She wasn't quite ready to think about staying or leaving just yet. The mere thought of having to choose discomforted her, and Caspian's gaze upon her wasn't helping in the slightest. There was a touch of sadness and hope lingering behind his brown eyes. She had to look away from him so as not to break down altogether.

"Left or right?" Annette quietly asked, brushing off the topic. She wanted to avoid it for as long as possible, even though she knew that it would be brought up again as soon as the two of them sat down for their real discussion. It was just one of those unwanted topics that constantly made an appearance.

Caspian remained silent, which only irritated Annette. Did he not understand that this was uncomfortable for her? Was he _expecting_ an answer right now?

"Caspian!" She snapped at him, instantly feeling sorry once his face showed signs of hurt. Annette, out of nerves, now began fidgeting with the sleeves of his shirt. Her tone was much softer now, filled with a new concern. "You're still soaking wet! And don't you dare think that those shivers of yours have gone unnoticed! What if you became ill? I agreed for Edmund to scare Margaret into the fountain. How was I supposed to know she'd drag you in with her? I'd be the one to blame if you got sick! Everyone would-"

A comforting squeeze was given to Annette's hand, one that showed Caspian wasn't the least bit angry with her. When she looked towards him, he only wore a warm expression. "It's left."

Too bashful to say anything else, Annette simply nodded and allowed for Caspian to lead her down this unfamiliar hall. Actually, everything was unfamiliar to her and she sincerely missed the How. She knew every inch of the fortress, but here she was consistently confused. She didn't even know where exactly they were! Annette had only been here once before, and it was for a raid in the middle of the night. She thought she'd at least remember some hallway or window, even! _I don't understand how anyone ever goes about living in castles;_ she silently thought._ It's all terribly confusing,_

"… And after the parade there will most definitely be a ball to celebrate the success of the revolution." Caspian proudly stated, pulling Annette away from her confusion. Although she had only caught the ending on his sentence, she had heard just enough to nearly jump with excitement.

"Is there really going to be a ball?" She chirped, her green eyes gleaming with life. "As in a huge formal party where everyone gets to wear the most elegant of dresses, eat the most extravagant food, and simply dance the night away?"

Caspian stopped in his tracks once they reached a grand door, presumably his chambers, and spun Annette around so she was facing him. Their hands remained connected throughout. "Of course! What else are you supposed to do after a victory?"

The giddy Annette beamed with happiness, until a sudden realization presented itself to her. She gasped, "Margaret and I have never gone dancing before. You don't suppose we'll make a fool out of ourselves? That would just be terrible."

"That I cannot answer for you," he chuckled. "We'll have to find out in two days."

At first Annette only stared at Caspian with a fake annoyed smile, but eventually she couldn't contain herself any longer and joined in with his laughter. She wanted this jovial mood to last forever, but the thought of all these lovely adventures possibly ending slowly started to creep up on her. No matter how much she tried to force the thought away, it continued to push forward until it was the only thing running through her head. It was almost as though something was making sure she wouldn't forget about this.

"Annette, does something trouble you?" Caspian asked as soon as her laughter had died and a gloomy shadow descended upon her face.

"No, I'm fine." Annette sheepishly smiled up at Caspian, who didn't seem convinced in the least. She shook her head, "Well, maybe not… just change into something warmer so we can talk."

Caspian nodded his head in agreement. "Meet me in the study. It's just down this hallway on the right side. Feel free to read any of the books while you wait."

"I might just do that." She smiled with the anticipation of reading a book again. It had been such a long time since she last touched one that the tips of her fingers tingled with the mere thought of turning the frail page of a book.

Just before Caspian entered into his living quarters, he raised her hand to his lips and gently kissed it. A flash of red immediately engulfed her face, but luckily Caspian didn't quite seem to notice. Unsure of what to do next, Annette quickly curtsied and slid her hand out of his. As soon as her back was turned, she placed her recently kissed hand upon her racing heart.

~.~.~.~.

As soon as Annette burst into the study she felt right at home. It was a complete mess with books scattered atop every desk and sprawled out upon the floor, but Annette couldn't care less. She knew this sort of mess wouldn't even trouble Margaret… at first anyway. Eventually she knew her friend would go around the room to organize the books by category, color, or alphabetical order. A smirk made its way onto Annette's lips as she took a mental note to lead Margaret in here at some point.

Besides the numerous amounts of books, what Annette really noticed was a thicker blue and gray manuscript lying open upon the desk closest to the window. She approached the out-of-place book, noticing the vast amounts of papers surrounding it. All of them had a form of scribble etched into it, although some of the sheets were waded into a ball on the ground.

Annette reached out and slowly slid one of these papers out from underneath the cover. It portrayed the cost of Narnia's eastern shore and a drawing titled the "Lone Islands," but after that the map was merely blank. She tried flipping the paper over to see if it was extended, but its backing held nothing. She glanced over at the book and immediately began skimming its contents.

"Caspian has been reading that book for the majority of the day," A voice from behind said. Although the voice was warm and gentle, it still found a way to make Annette jump. She hadn't noticed the owner's presence beforehand.

"Do you know why that is?" She asked, already knowing very well who the voice belonged to.

"That may have been my fault, dear." Professor Cornelius declared, appearing at Annette's side. "Before this war, I mentioned to Caspian the possible whereabouts of his father's dearest companions. More or less, I shared the event described in this book, and now he's constantly searching for answers. I don't know why the Prince has had a sudden interest about the seven missing Lords, but as soon as you returned here he went straight to the study. He was here last night as well."

"So that's where he was…" Annette quietly muttered to herself, her eyes turning to the unfinished map. "Do you know what his intentions are?"

She finally removed her eyes from the parchment to look at the Professor. His glasses were halfway down his narrow nose, and his hands were folded over his stomach as they usually were. "I have my suspicions, but that's a matter you must bring up with Caspian himself."

"Bring what up?" Caspian asked, making his entrance at just the right moment. He was now wearing a much drier dry green shirt. Annette slid her eyes over to him, shaking the papers in her hand as she did so. "Oh, that. It's just some research."

Raising an eyebrow, Annette shifted her eyes between Caspian and the disarray of notes. "Just research? Caspian, anyone can tell this is more than that."

The two locked eyes with one another, although it was clear Annette held the power within this exchange. He tried to answer, but the words became jumbled as soon as he opened his mouth. He looked to his Professor for some assistance, but none was given. Professor Cornelius was actually in the process of _leaving _the study to give Annette and Caspian some privacy. He too had been in the study with all day, but he was trying to fix the mess Miraz and his men had created when searching for Narnian history books.

As soon as the door clicked behind Professor Cornelius, Annette began the conversation again, "What _is _all this?" Her voice held only pure interest; she was absolutely mystified about the whole thing.

"A way to learn more about my father," Caspian sighed as he made his way over to Annette. He pointed to a piece of paper in the upper left corner of the desk. More specifically, to a box on the side with seven names listed inside. Annette tried to make out the names, but Caspian's voice captivated her attention more. "Do you see these seven names? Each of these men were friends of my father, and banished because of it."

"Banished?" She squeaked as she sat in the seat Caspian pulled out for her.

"I suppose 'banished' isn't exactly the correct word," he said with a smirk, taking a seat next to her. "They were tricked by my Uncle into sailing off to the ends of the Earth."

Annette neatly placed the map back onto the table, smoothing out its crinkles with the palm of her hand. She felt sorry for him, but was also a bit concerned. Wasn't the Earth round? "Caspian, that's terrible! But… why the sudden interest?"

"Because I plan to find them as soon as possible. Annette, don't you realize what these men know?" He asked, excitedly scooting his chair forward. "Everything my father did when he was King! They could help us run the kingdom the way my father had! Narnia could be the stronghold it was _before_ Miraz took power."

"That all sounds rather lovely, and I'd love to tag along if you actually take this voyage. But do you really think now is the best time for this?" Annette, her voice strong and captivating, looked straight at the caught-off-guard Caspian. He hadn't really expected her to protest.

"If not now, then when? Narnia needs a leader who knows what he's doing."

"No, Caspian. Narnia needs a leader." Tenderly, Annette closed the giant book and stared straight into Caspian's eyes. "Although it may seem otherwise, Narnia is very vulnerable right now. You need to establish friends before they can put pressure onto the country. Create laws before another revolution breaks out. You yourself need to determine the best course of ruling these people. You may make mistakes, but don't you see? That's how you _learn_, Caspian." His eyes darted away, but this didn't prevent Annette from carrying on, "Please, just… wait a few years before doing something such as this. It's a big decision, and one that should not be decided upon so suddenly."

Caspian remained quiet for some time, making Annette feel all the more anxious. When he finally did speak, his voice held no resentment, only understanding. "How do you know so much about this? I am sure such ruling strategies were not something taught at your England."

"Well," She drummed her fingers on the book, trying to find an answer to Caspian's question. "I wouldn't exactly call it ruling, I don't know anything about that. It's just after all I've come across while being here, that's what I would do if I were in your position. Rebuild the country for… three years or so, and then go off to uncharted lands. Allow for a more stable land to be created and maintained in your absence."

"It's actually not a bad idea, Annette." Caspian easily complimented. Annette smiled her thanks, only forcing a laugh to topple out of him. "So then in a few years time, the two of us can locate a crew and go sailing!" He continued to laugh, so he didn't quite notice when the smile on Annette's face had fallen.

"Caspian, please, can we not talk about that?" She tried to keep her voice from sounding irritated, but she couldn't help it. She was tired of people trying to influence her to choose one way or another, even if they weren't aware of what they were doing. Didn't anyone realize it was her heart that made the final decision, not her brain?

Although initially confused as to what Annette was referring to, Caspian shook his head and leaned forward until his hands dangled off his knees. "We do not have to if that is what will make you more comfortable." His voice was sincere, which allowed a wave of relief to wash over her. "But will you allow me to ask you one question?"

Biting her lip, Annette cast her eyes down towards her lilac dress; her hands anxiously picking at the seam. The relief that came at her was sucked away as soon as Caspian said the unforgiving word "but." Did she want to hear him out? Secretly, Annette did want to talk this through with Caspian. It was her gut that presented a problem. She knew anything connected to leaving Narnia would only bring her pain in the end. But shouldn't Caspian be allowed to express his voice? Margaret had already revealed some of her desires earlier that morning, so it was only fair that Caspian got a say too. Right?

Without even lifting her head, Annette nodded her approval. She only wished she wouldn't regret this decision in the end.

"Why do you push this subject away?" Caspian paused to formulate his next sentence. He knew this was a sensitive topic for Annette, so he had to tread carefully. "We do not yet know for certain if you, Margaret, and the Kings and Queens will be leaving. So why do you avoid it?"

"Because at some point, a decision has to be made… and I'll lose someone." Her voice was barely audible, but every word was a reflection of her mind. This was the battle currently going through her head, and she herself couldn't believe that she was actually telling Caspian any of it. "I never want to leave this beautiful land or… you." She briefly glanced up at him only to lower her eyes just as quickly. "But I can't bare the thought of parting with Margaret. She means everything to me."

Annette kept her mind trained to the pattern on her dress, the dark purple swirls were far more pleasing than what Caspian was about to be. Except, what she thought would happen did not come to pass. A hand suddenly appeared in her vision, and it placed itself atop of her own shaking ones. A warm glow was sent straight to her heart, lingering even as she lifted her dazed head.

Caspian, his eyes immediately locking with Annette's, delicately brushed the back of her hand with his thumb. He couldn't offer her any words, just support. He felt selfish for what he secretly aspired for, but didn't want his thoughts to trouble Annette any further than what she already was.

Smiling, Annette lovingly gazed back at him. Her heart quickened its pace, such as it had done many times before when he was around. She no longer thought about leaving, choosing instead to think about enjoying every moment she may have left in Narnia until that dreaded day came. Annette even promised herself not to dwell on the thought any longer until absolutely necessary. No sense in dragging her friends into something she herself would have to face. Her decision would come naturally.

The doors of the study suddenly slammed open. It was such a disturbance to the serious conversation that Annette expressed her fear by letting out a small scream. Caspian, having only jumped back upon hearing the sound, questioningly looked at her before bellowing out a hearty laugh.

"I do hope I'm not interrupting anything!" The kind voice of Lucy pleaded as she ran to Caspian and Annette. Caspian looked at the small figure of Lucy then back to Annette, this whole ordeal now becoming even more humorous.

"It not funny!" Annette tried to complain, although the laughter within her voice gave her away. "Caspian!" She giggled, lightly hitting the side of his arm. "_Stop!_ It's really not that funny!"

By now, both of them were nearly crying from laughter while the confused Lucy patiently waited at the edge of the table. She remained out of this little joke of theirs until Caspian was finally able to breath normally again. "You scared Annette nicely there, Lucy!" Just thinking about it brought another round of chuckles upon him.

"Oh, Annette, I'm so sorry!" Lucy apologized with a worried look about her.

"Lucy, it's nothing." She smiled at the young Queen. "There's no way you could have known we were in here."

Lucy pushed herself up onto the desk, her face still not believing Annette was fine. "I know, it's just…" she sighed impatiently at the words refusing to form, "I only wanted to see what historians wrote about me. It's not everyday you see your name in a history book, you know. Although I do wish I wouldn't have to read up on it. I've always enjoyed _listening_ to stories more."

"That's quite understandable, Lucy. I'd do just the same." Annette was glad Lucy was here. She had a way of making everything around her seem happy and purposeful.

"If you'd like to hear stories, my Professor has told me many things about your Golden Age." Caspian, finally cured of his endless laughter, finally decided to join in.

Lucy leaned in closer towards him, a smile slowly spreading across her face. "He did?"

Annette eagerly nodded her head, even though she didn't even know if it was true. She only wanted to be involved with whatever conversation would unfold. Obviously it would be about Narnia, and Annette certainly didn't want to miss out on learning about this country.

"What about the one when I first met Mr. Tumnus? I was told that's a difficult story to come by."

"That goes along with the history of Narnia itself," Caspian said after a short pause. "How interested are you in being told of that?"

"As long as Narnia is involved, you can tell me anything!" Lucy eagerly stated with an even broader smile.

And so the three of them partook in the most engaging discussion of Narnia anyone could ever witness. Annette couldn't contribute too much, since she knew very little to begin with, but she kept an open ear. She learned so many new things about Narnia that she could barely contain herself. Learning about this country only made Annette love it more, if that was even possible to begin with.

~.~.~.~.

Edmund escorted a drenched Margaret back to her quarters. They both knew how ridiculous they probably appeared: two people soaked to the bone with their arms linked together. But neither of them truly cared what others thought about them. They were enjoying each other's company, and that's all the mattered.

"After a certain… incident that took place this morning," Margaret explained, her eyes mischievously sliding back and forth. She was finally getting around to answering Edmund's question as to why she had so willingly embarrassed Annette. "I decided to find some sort of way to get her back. I thought sharing a few personal things with Caspian would be suited enough for that, but little did I know that she was actually eavesdropping with _you_ behind one of the bushes."

"Knowing you, you'd probably still go through with your little scheme even if you knew about our hiding spot." Edmund chuckled.

"True… " Margaret replied after seriously thinking through that scenario. Annette had one thing coming towards her, that's for sure. "Besides, I knew you were there the entire time. I just chose to ignore you."

"Well that _clearly _explains why you fell into the fountain when I jumped out at you." Margaret full on glared at Edmund, but he only responded with more chuckles. "Admit it. You were completely scared and—Hey! I said no more splashing!"

Margaret, her hands tightly cupped around her hair, paused in the air. "This isn't _splashing_. I'm merely wringing out my hair. Your arm just so happens to be in the way."

"Well aren't you the funny one today." He smirked, sending a wave of butterflies into Margaret's stomach. She sheepishly returned a smile, hoping that maybe this had affected him in the same way somehow.

A few moments later, Margaret stopped Edmund in front of a small corridor coming off of the main hall they had been walking down. "Well, I'm just down the hall there." She said, pointing to one of the doors.

"Then I shall leave you here, Miss. Margaret." Edmund smugly said, unlinking his arm. "Change into something dry, and get a good night's rest. Perhaps we can meet up again tomorrow?"

"I would enjoy that very much, _King _Edmund." Margaret replied with a small curtsey, trying her best to hold back giggles. She then turned away from him and headed for her room, but just before her hand reached the doorknob, something rather peculiar happened.


	24. Weather the Storms

**Since it's the holidays, I had to have a bit of lightness to this chapter. Hope you all enjoy! HO HO HO (Almost. 20 more days! HUZZAH!) I LOVE CHRISTMAS. FATHER CHRISTMAS IS IN NARNIA… -throws pom poms- YEAH!**

**Much love,**

**Mistro**

~.~.~.~.~

"May I have a word?"

Margaret was just about to enter her bedroom when a silky, literate voice rang out in her ear. She spun around on her heels quickly, her eyes wide with unexpected surprise. "Susan!" She said, attempting to smile with ease. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Neither did I." Edmund said, narrowing his brows. He wondered secretly how long his sister had been paying attention to them.

"My room is just down the hall," Susan chuckled, pointing down the corridor. "I heard from my sister that you were staying nearby." Susan's calm expression was beginning to grow murky. Margaret could tell by the gradual dropping of the corners of her mouth that something was unsettling her. "If you're busy, I understand-"

Margaret instantly shook her head, and pulled open her door with a welcoming gesture. "Not in the least. Edmund and I were just finishing up our conversation." Susan grinned politely, and entered the room. Whatever she had to speak to Margaret about was clearly urgent.

Edmund stood, baffled on the threshold. She noticed how pathetic he looked standing alone and dripping wet. To cheer him up, she quietly whispered, "Tomorrow," before closing the door. Her last sight was a small smile forming on his lips. He would just have to wait. Margaret had rarely spoken one on one with the second eldest Pevensie, and her frequent curiosity was ever-growing.

"Before I talk to you about anything," Susan laughed as she eyed Margaret from head to toe. "I have to ask… Why were you and my brother dripping wet from head to toe?"

Margaret's cheeks suddenly burned and she hoped that somehow the water on her face would hide her flashing red cheeks. "I…" She struggled for a moment to find the words as Susan's stare continued to linger upon her face. "Well, I was speaking with Caspian… near the fountain… Edmund and Annette jumped out and scared me and unfortunately I fell in."

Susan raised a knowing brow. "And Edmund?"

Margaret dropped her head towards the floor as she was unable to resist a smirk. "I may or may not have gotten my revenge."

"So, the war _isn't_ over," Susan laughed, sitting herself down on Margaret's bed. "In all honestly, my brother deserves a taste of his own medicine." She shook her head at the thought of her mischievous sibling, but with good humor. "If only you knew him when we had first come to Narnia… Oh, he was destined to destroy us all. Temptation and my brother do not sit well together."

"How intriguing," Margaret joked as she joined Susan on the bed. "He's quite the fascinating man."

A dark expression crossed over Susan's face. Margaret wondered with embarrassment if she had said something wrong. "Man…" Susan repeated. Her smile faded and her eyes seemed to stare off into nothingness. Margaret looked at her for a while in silence, trying to understand her thoughts. "It's such an odd feeling. I know that we're all growing up, but it seems as though we never really do. We've already lived our lives as adults in this world. I wonder if we shall continue to return until we are old."

Margaret sat for a while, biting the bottom of her lip. The topic was one that had been itching at her lately as well. Though the Pevensies had lived their lives as Kings and Queens in Narnia, she had not. She had a newfound love for this land, but her life back in England was not something she could easily pass up. As for Annette, there was nothing back home for her. Margaret could tell by the glimmer in her friend's eyes every time she woke up, that Narnia was the place she wanted to be. Margaret couldn't accept that yet. She couldn't have her friend leave her. Though Margaret was hesitant to admit it, she _needed_ Annette. She was her backbone and her sister. Without her, how would she survive the war back home?

"At any rate…" Susan mumbled, drawing Margaret away from her feelings. "I don't know if _I_ shall ever return to Narnia."

"What?" Margaret muttered, though she had expected something like that.

"Nor Peter. We've lived our lives here. We've grown older. We have duties back home… Duties that we haven't even taken the time to discover yet." Her blue eyes seemed to darken and empty, just as the river had earlier that day. Susan's hair seemed to get longer as Margaret stared. Her eyes changed to the color of mist and wrinkles began to form around her structured features. Margaret saw a lifetime flicker by in mere seconds. She blinked and suddenly Susan became herself again. She held her breath in confusion. _What had just happened? _

"We're older now," Susan whispered. "And we've done our duty for this land."

Margaret fidgeted for a moment, trying to regain her composure. "Did you speak to Aslan about it?" She asked as casually as she could.

Susan slowly lifted her head to glance at Margaret. Water was brimming at the edge of her eyes, but the strong young woman managed to hold herself together. "I suppose you could put it like that. Just without the words."

Margaret nodded her head, and slowly put a comforting hand on Susan's shoulder. The youthful Queen didn't seem to mind and she sat utterly still. "And Peter?" Margaret asked, though she already knew the answer. Susan merely shook her head. _And just when Peter was finally starting to make sense… _Margaret thought, as her heart strings were tugged on.

"We haven't had the heart to tell the others yet," Susan laughed pathetically. "I can't imagine what Lucy will say."

"I understand where you're coming from," Margaret mumbled. She suddenly had the urge to spill everything out to someone, and conveniently Susan happened to be there. "I would love to come back to Narnia, but I have a life back home. As for Annette, I can tell she loves being here and honestly has nothing to return home to. London's hands are empty to her. They only offer streaks of war and a dim future." Margaret's voice dropped instantly. "Sometimes, I think she would even choose Caspian over everything, including me." Susan's brows rose instantly in curiosity, and Margaret raised her head with a sense of regret. Annette didn't want anyone to know about them, and Margaret had slipped up. "Oh! Me and my silver tongue!" She cried, placing her hands over her mouth.

"Caspian?" Susan blinked with surprise. "I suppose I… hadn't noticed…"

Margaret continued shaking her head in disbelief. "Please don't tell Annette I told you so."

Susan remained silent, her face twisted in discomfort. "So, Caspian feels something for her?" Her voice was barely audible.

"It seems that way."

"What a fool I've been!" Susan cursed herself suddenly. Margaret watched with shock as Susan rose herself from the bed and began to pace about the room in front of her. "What was I thinking in the first place…? Of course! It's obvious now, isn't it?"

"What's obvious?"

"That he cares for her," Susan chuckled, placing a frustrated hand on her forehead. "Naturally, he would. They're so similar. I just thought… for a split second…"

"Yes?"

Margaret could see the truth wanting to gush from Susan's lips. Only another moment and she knew she would burst. "I just thought he might have liked me." Susan blurted out. She instantly regretted it as her cheeks turned pink. Now that the truth was out, however, there was no stopping her. "I pushed it. For once in my life, I pushed something further because I thought it was going somewhere. I didn't doubt myself. Most boys tend to make me uncomfortable, like one I met before we came… and…" Her eyes suddenly locked with Margaret's. "Well, now you know how I feel about Caspian."

Margaret sat baffled. She stared up at Susan; beautiful and radiant Susan and found nothing but discomfort and lament etched across her face. Margaret felt a sinking in her stomach, one that was vaguely familiar. She knew how it felt to get humiliated, especially in front of boys. "Your secret is safe with me, Susan."

Susan frowned as she rose her shaking fingers to her lips. Her eyes were closed for what seemed like ages, and her words were silenced. "I'm so foolish," she finally whispered against her skin. "No wonder he feels for her."

"Don't say that!" Margaret said firmly as she made her way towards Susan. Her hands once again found the other girl's shoulders, and held them firmly. "The moment I saw you, I could see intelligence and beauty in you. You're a Queen, Susan. You have held honor before, and you always will, no matter where you go."

Susan stared at Margaret for a while until a smile broke out onto her face. A hidden tear had slid down her cheek and up close Margaret could finally see it. It didn't match well with her new smile, and Susan quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand. "You're quite the motivational speaker," she teased.

Margaret smiled back with equal happiness and shook her head modestly. "No. I just try and give myself pep talks daily and get excited at the chance for me to tell them to others." Susan and she both laughed at this. "I do mean what I said, though, Susan. You can succeed anywhere you go. You don't need a man to keep you going."

Susan smirked, playfully nudging Margaret. Her mood was instantly rising. "Aha, but _you_ do."

Margaret's smile dropped. "What?"

"What, you think I haven't noticed?" Susan laughed. "You just said yourself that I was smart. I think I can pick up when my brother is completely entranced by a girl... particularly, you."

Margaret nervously laughed. This conversation was not going the direction she had originally intended it to. She took the awkward opportunity to walk across the room to her dresser. Boys were a touchy thing to talk about with her, even with Annette. "Wow!" She gasped sarcastically, pulling back the door to her dressers. "What a _fascinating_ array of dresses! So many vibrant colors…" Desperately, she tried to calm her shaky voice. "I-I suppose I'll have to wear one of these to the balls!"

Susan smiled to herself. Margaret clearly felt uncomfortable in the situation, so Susan decided it was best to stop it. "Here," Susan sighed, walking over to the closet. "Let's pick something out for the ball." Margaret turned her head in surprise, watching as Susan pulled out a few dresses. She actually wanted to help her. "What color were you thinking?"

"Oh," Margaret felt her cheeks turn pink. She didn't want to admit that she had been thinking about it for days, but secretly it was consuming her mind nearly every second. A ball! With real gentleman! …And animals, but she could deal with that. "I wasn't really thinking of anything…" Slowly, Susan inspected a lilac dress. "No!" Margaret shouted suddenly, putting the purple dress back in the wardrobe. "_Not_ that one." Quickly, she snatched a handful of blue dresses. "I guess I did have a _little_ something in my head, and I was leaning more towards oceanic colors…"

I agree," Susan grinned. Margaret could be as typical as any girl when she wanted to be. "Blue is a wise choice."

"You don't think it's too much? With my eyes and all?"

"Of course not; all the more reason to pick a lighter color."

Margaret stared at her three options, sprawled out on the bed before her. Her eyes scanned each one carefully. How would the sleeves look? Would it be too long? Would she trip over the hems? Darkly, she couldn't help but to think… What would Edmund fancy? Her eyes glazed over the fabrics until finally, she held one up.

"This," she said with certainty. "This is definitely it."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

"I promise you!" Caspian laughed after Annette playfully slapped him on the arm. Lucy was in a fit of giggles as well, and the three of them couldn't resist cheerfulness. "It was absolutely the _worst_ Christmas I've ever experienced."

"I would have to say the worst Christmas experience for me was…" Annette drummed her fingers against her lips, trying to remember all of the uncomfortable moments. "Oh, one year, when I was at Margaret's house, I woke up before everyone else. I wanted to know if Santa had come yet, so I snuck downstairs." The memory was making Annette's eyes sparkle as she told the story and Caspian couldn't help to get distracted by her beauty. He tried inwardly to focus, but she was beginning to look more radiant than ever. He loved seeing her smile and laugh, and wished her to stay that way for as long as she could. "When I walked down the stairs," she continued with a grin. "I saw Margaret's father placing gifts under the tree. I scream so loud that he gasped in fear, fell backwards and knocked down the tree!" Their laughter was overlapping over one another's. "That wasn't even the worst part! I was screaming, 'Where's Santa! You're not Santa!' while he also tripped over all of the milk and cookies. All of the presents were soiled, and everything was a mess. Then of course, Margaret woke up and realized Santa wasn't real either."

"How awful!" Lucy said, despite the laughter she couldn't resist.

"On the plus side," Annette beamed. "We did get terrific gifts that year."

"So, do you and Margaret spend the Holidays together every year?"

"Yes!" Annette said happily. She began to think of all the wonderful moments every December she and her best friend would have. Images of them making Christmas Eve pudding, and tossing snow balls at one another flickered through her mind. The thoughts were good, and she couldn't think of any time she'd been happier. Thinking about it however made her stomach churn. If she were to stay in Narnia, she would have to leave all of that behind. She would have to leave Margaret behind.

"Annette?" Caspian's voice interrupted her. "Are you alright?"

"What?" Annette mumbled, turning her eyes to him. He looked at her with worry, and Annette knew she couldn't hide her discomfort from him. He saw right through her and into her soul. There was no lying to him. Her eyes were not deceitful. "I'm fine," she said, though they both knew the truth. "I was thinking about… Christmas pudding."

Caspian's brows suddenly came together in question. "Pudding?" He questioned, cocking his head to the side.

"You know what pudding is, right?" Lucy grinned, obviously not noticing Caspian's head shaking back and forth. "You… you've never had pudding?"

"No," Caspian smirked. "Is this a delicious treat from your England?"

Annette's face suddenly became serious. Leaving her friend was a serious crime. But, not knowing about pudding was possibly even worse.

"Someone get me a saucer," Annette smiled. "We're going to cook."


	25. Festivities and a Parade

**Hey guys! I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday and a splendid New Year!**

**UPDATES: After this chapter, there will only be five more postings (DUN DUN DUNNNNN) with one of those being an epilogue. Then eventually Mistrostrings and I will have an editing party, so watch out for that. Will there be a sequel? Will there not? All will be revealed in good time!**

**Reviews are always welcome, especially here in the land of Narnia!**

**~MisticLight**

~.~.~.~.

The following day held many chores for Margaret, Annette, Caspian, and the four Pevensies. Besides having to prepare for a parade and a ball, they also had to set up for Caspian's coronation. So, much to the displeasure of Margaret, everyone was up and about rather early in the morning.

The first task of the day was etiquette practice, which was merely for the benefit of Margaret and Annette. While Caspian walked through the procedure of his coronation, the girls were instructed by Susan and Lucy on how to behave during said event. Although most of it was common sense, the girls still paid close attention. Not only was Caspian going to be crowned King, but Margaret and Annette were about to become _Ladies _of Narnia for their services in the revolution against Miraz. They wanted to be on their best behavior to prove themselves worthy of such a title.

Taking the majority of the girls' day was cleaning, which proceeded after a quick lunch break. Annette complained about this more than Margaret, who was quite content with the thought of adding her touch to Narnia's way of organization. In fact, it wasn't long before Margaret had complete control over the whole process in general; which was to tidy up the dank throne room for the coronation, decorate the courtyard for the ball, and replenish the gardens for those guests wishing to step away from the dance for a short while. On top of all that, for the girls anyway, outfits and hairstyles had to be planned out for each affair.

It's no wonder that after a day of constant labor, the young royals found themselves behind the castle the following afternoon. The coronation, which was an elegant affair with a small audience, had just been released and now all were waiting to be whisked away to the parade. The four girls sat upon the steps of the castle while Caspian and Edmund, having teamed up against Peter, dueled one another. They each wore charming yet simple clothing with natural hair so Narnia could see them for who they truly were.

Lucy sat on the far left, her straight auburn hair resting nicely against the back of her soft pink dress, with a smile planted upon her face. Her cheeks were tainted red from all the laughing she had recently done and it didn't appear it to be settling down anytime soon. "Peter, what's wrong? I thought you were the 'greatest swordsman in all of Narnia.'"

"I still am!" Peter replied a little _too_ confidently as he unrolled the sleeves of his light blue shirt. "The two of them tricked me and you all saw it."

"Well I certainly didn't see anything." Lucy continued to giggle, "What about you, Susan?"

Lucy leaned forward so as to better see her sister sitting on the opposite end of the stairs. Susan grinned back and shook her head, allowing her partially swooped dark hair to spill across her red dress and yellow sleeves. "I don't believe Edmund or Caspian would do such a thing!"

"Very funny." Peter sneered, sitting on the bottom step. "At any rate, I'm glad they got me out. I was planning on going easy on them, which didn't sound the least bit fun in the first place."

"_Someone_ is a bit edgy this afternoon." Susan loudly whispered to Margaret, who was sitting next to her, intending for Annette and Lucy to hear as well.

Margaret's face easily lit up into a smile. She whipped her head back to make sure Annette had heard, almost causing her slightly curly blond locks to slap against the side of her friends face. Her blue eyes shimmered with excitement and laughter stumbled off of her lips once she locked eyes with Annette. Margaret was in such high spirits because of the upcoming events that she chose to ignore the dirt that the stairs may share with her light silver dress. What Margaret admired most about this outfit of hers were the sleeves; they flowed off of a slightly angled neckline and barely covered her shoulders before transforming into a see-through material of the same color that flowed down until her wrists.

"I agree with you on that one!" Edmund said before ducking away from Caspian's swing.

"Edmund, pay more attention to the match." Margaret almost scolded, flapping the end of the light silver ribbon tied around her waist at him. She wanted him to beat Caspian, and the nudge she received from Annette only further provoked her silent competition. "Stop prying into others conversations."

She jokingly glared at Edmund, but this faded into a smile as soon as he met her gaze. He began to laugh, but the sword approaching from the right soon cut him off. Lifting his own sword, Edmund blocked the attack before speaking again, "Interesting how you mentioned that to me yesterday…." He smirked and pushed Caspian's sword away, allowing a giggle to escape from both Margaret and Susan. The two girls looked at each other as the memories from last night came flooding in.

_Somehow, all of the chores from the day before were finished by nightfall. So as all the creatures dispersed to do what they will, Susan approached Margaret with suggestions on what she should do with her hair for the ball. It was easy to see the enthusiasm on Margaret's face as they discussed this, and thus curious Edmund, fearing they were speaking about him, decided to investigate. He began to follow them into the gardens, but Margaret learned her lesson from before when she had fallen into the fountain. Almost immediately she called him out and the bashful Edmund had no choice but to step forward. Amongst the glares, he was able to choke out a cordial 'hello' to each of the girls._

_Susan scrutinized her brother before inquiring, "Edmund, what exactly are you up to? Why are you following us around?"_

_A rather uncomfortable laugh toppled out of Edmund "Following? Is that what you think I was doing? No. I was just walking around….taking in our day's work. What are you two doing out this late?"_

_Susan remained unconvinced and inspected her brother. "We're merely conversing. Girl talk, as you would put it. What's it to you?"_

_Edmund shrugged, looking from Susan to Margaret. "Genuine curiosity, that's all." He smiled and placed his hands behind his back, not at all noticing the slightly peeved look the girls had on their faces. They were annoyed, yet slightly amused, of the interruption to their conversation. "So what is it, exactly, that you two are talking about then?"_

_Margaret narrowed her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. She straightened herself up so as to appear taller and declared with a confident voice, "Hair, Edmund. We are speaking of hair. Is that a problem?"_

"_Well, if you put it like that..." The two girls could see the discomfort rising in Edmund's face as he spoke. He moved his finger along the inside of his collar, a sign of nerves, before shaking his head and backing away from Susan and Margaret with an uninterested yet panicked expression about him. It took all the girls will power to suppress the rising laughter in their throats once he spoke up again, "Nope. It's not a problem at all. I suppose I should be going then...yes. I'll see the two of you tomorrow!"_

_He quickly turned his back to them and scampered off. As he did, Margaret couldn't resist the temptation of shouting out after him, "Stop prying and mind your own business, Edmund Pevensie!"_

Margaret's small giggle soon turned into full on laughter the more she thought about it, especially when she pictured Edmund's face as he left her and Susan. It was one of those faces that would forever be etched into her brain.

A gentle hand was placed on Margaret's right arm, making her laughter cease for the time being, to look over at Annette. A smile was tucked into her face as well, one that made a small sparkle rise in her green eyes. The olive green dress she wore almost matched those eyes of hers; it was just a few shades brighter. The rounded neckline swiftly rolled into the sleeves, which reached just above her elbow before flaring out a little. Annette pushed her wavy hair to the side so her hands could play with it rather than the cream colored belt weaved around her waist. "Margaret, do quiet down a bit. No offense, but you're being a tad distracting."

Widening her eyes, Margaret followed Annette's gaze towards the duel where a perplexed Edmund had just clumsily swung at Caspian. His furrowed brows and darting eyes showed just how unfocused Margaret had made him.

With a gasp, Margaret's hands flew to cover her mouth. She remained a bit uncomfortable for a few moments, but then Annette began to laugh and Margaret couldn't help but join in with her.

Again, Edmund looked over towards the laughing friends with concern written all over his face. He became so sidetracked that he almost forgot to dodge away from another one of Caspian's swings. "Come on Edmund, pay attention!" The new King chuckled.

"And would you two quit giggling?" Peter sternly commanded.

Immediately Margaret and Annette shut their mouths. They remained quiet as Peter glowered at them, but after a few somewhat tense moments Annette began her laughter all over again. Margaret shushed her friend with a questioning look about her face, but Annette continued her laughter.

"I'm sorry, Peter!" She said between giggles. "But presently, I cannot take you seriously!"

Surprisingly enough, Peter's face softened and he began to smile along with them. This provoked Annette to look over Peter and at Caspian, who instantly locked eyes with her. They shared a smile before Caspian had to back away from one of Edmund's swings. With a smile upon her face, Annette now looked to her right at an already giggling Lucy.

Margaret, Susan, and Edmund weren't the only ones to have an interesting incident the night before.

_Lucy and Annette were determined to make pudding for Caspian. It was a crime, really, to have never tasted the delicacy of such a treat. So, the three of them snuck into the kitchen as soon as their chores were completed and began to bake. Since the ingredients had to come from memory, their first attempt at creating pudding ended up in a disaster. They pushed the bowel aside and began a second batch, which appeared to be much more promising._

_Just as Caspian put the pudding into his mouth, a bashful Annette declared, "This really doesn't do it any justice. Actually, it's a bit awful. I promise it tastes better with a recipe in hand."_

_A protest emerged from Caspian, but Lucy spoke up and acted as the middleman. "This isn't as good as mum's Christmas pudding, but I wouldn't necessarily call it awful..." Still Caspian claimed their cooking to be perfect, so a plan hatched in the young girls mind. "Perhaps you haven't had enough of it!"_

_With that, Lucy grabbed a handful of pudding and smashed it into his face. At first the shocked Annette gasped, but then she began to snigger along with the young Queen. Caspian's baffled expression combined with pudding was too much for her._

_With the spoon in his hand, Caspian scooped up some pudding and proceeded to dump it onto Annette's head. She squealed at Caspian's unexpected action and took the spoon from him. With a quick reaction, Annette launched some pudding at each of her laughing companions. And thus a pudding fight broke out amongst them._

_In the heat of battle, the doors burst open. Everyone froze as a displeased Peter stomped into the kitchen shouting, "What do you think you are doing?"_

_Very carefully, Annette dipped the spoon into the bowl. "We're making pudding. Would you care for some?" Peter's face slightly softened as he succumbed to the precious dessert. He stepped forward to take the spoon, but before he could grab it Annette flung the contents at Peter's face._

_Lucy, Caspian, and Annette started to laugh as Peter removed the pudding from his face. However, his stern gaze shut them up rather quickly. Annette cast her eyes downward, coughing to calm down the giggle that so wanted to be known. "Is it not delicious?"_

_Stifled laughter from all three of them became prominent, but Peter's face remained the same. He analyzed the substance and said, "Almost" before smiling and launching the pudding back at Annette "Now it is."_

_Annette gaped at Peter, but then she mischievously smiled and retaliated with more pudding. And thus the pudding war resumed._

"It wasn't all that funny." Peter said, although the laughter in his voice gave him away.

"I believe it to be otherwise." Caspian shouted towards them with a smile planted upon his face. He looked over at Annette once more, but a sword suddenly entered his vision and he had to duck out of the way.

This time it was Edmund's turn to laugh as he looked down at the bewildered King. "Come on Caspian, pay attention." He mimicked Caspian's words to him a few moments before, smiling as he did so. Caspian pushed himself up, now more determined than ever, and reentered the duel.

The rest of the group merrily watched and cheered on for whom they sought fit to win. Annette took Caspian's side along with Susan, who would sometimes applaud for Edmund since he was her brother. Margaret chose Edmund as did the loyal Lucy. Peter remained neutral. In all reality, he did wish for any of them to win because the two of them had teamed against them in the first place. However, he maintained a cheery mood and offered his support to both sides.

An unanticipated cough from was what paused the duel. They all turned their heads towards Edmund, who shrugged and looked behind him. There, stomping his paw in the dust, stood a rather impatient Trufflehunter. In his claws he held a large golden crown, the one that had been placed upon Caspian's head during his coronation. "I presume you all had your fun? Your uncontrollable laughter could be heard from the stables."

Margaret timidly smiled at the badger, not really knowing what his current emotions were. "We were just having a bit of fun is all, no harm in that."

"Is that so?" Trufflehunter said, his ears perking up a little. "You could have damaged your outfits." He specifically eyed Margaret sitting atop of the soiled staircase in her light colored dress. As if reading the badger's mind, she shot to her feet and offered an embarrassed smile. "Luckily Caspian wasn't wearing this." The badger lifted the crown towards Caspian, who was now hanging his head in shame for forgetting such a precious item. "Now unless you wish to delay the parade any further, I suggest we get going."

Now everyone was on their feet and following after the waddling badger. "We will finish our duel later then." Edmund said to try and lift Caspian's spirits for the parade.

"Of course!" He said, unrolling the sleeves of his cream shirt. "When that day comes, I assure you that victory will be in my favor."

"That's what you say now!" Edmund smirked, straightening the cuffs of his brown shirt. "But just wait until that theory of yours is wrong."

Trufflehunter lead the group of royals to the awaiting Narnians. They all felt rather bashful for forgetting the time, but then all eyes fell to the front of the procession where a smiling Aslan stood. As soon as he met each individual's eyes, they knew the Lion was not angry with them in the least. All was forgiven and the parade could be carried on in peace.

And what a parade it was! The party made its way from the castle, across the bridge, and into the city. Leading the parade into the cheering city from atop of Destrier was the freshly crowned Caspian with an ever-proud Aslan on his right. Behind him were the eldest two Pevensies, followed by the younger two. Annette and Margaret walked behind the Kings and Queens with Trumpkin, Professor Cornelius, and Glenstorm. Trufflehunter remained at the rear of the party with Reepicheep and his army my mice. However the proud rodent wished to be closer to the front, or 'glory' as he put it, and strode forward to join Margaret and Annette. Smiles were easily passed along, especially when the happy citizens began tossing flower petals onto them. Margaret and Annette beamed at one another; this was where they wanted to be.

Although the rain of flowers stopped as soon as the procession set foot on the bridge, the cheers could still be heard and the merriment did no die down. Not even when all had assembled in the castle grounds did smiles leave the faces of Narnians. The parade had lifted the moods of all involved, but now the anticipation of a ball began to fill everyone. This dance especially excited Annette and Margaret since they had never attended such an affair. Even though the two friends didn't know a thing about dancing, they anticipated it all the same and excitedly chatted as they departed from the Narnians.

"Annette! Margaret! Wait!" A familiar, accented voice resounded after them, halting both their conversation and their movements. Still smiling, they turned around to see an approaching Caspian and Edmund. "We have a question."

"And what, exactly, would that be?" Annette inquired as soon as the two boys directly faced them.

Caspian and Edmund nervously looked at one another, saying nothing. In a joking manor, Margaret began tapping her foot. "Well come on, we haven't got all day." In all reality, they did have a lot of time. It was about noon and the only remaining events of the day were to prepare for the dance, eat a glorious dinner, and then attend the ball.

"Right." Edmund coughed after Caspian nudged him forward. "We were just curious as to what colors you were wearing tonight."

Margaret and Annette curiously glanced at each other before facing the two boys again. After a short pause, the two stated their colors at the same time: Margaret saying the color of 'blue' and Annette with 'maroon'.

Annette looked the two of them up and down. She was unaccustomed to the procedures of old fashioned balls and did not understand what Caspian and Edmund were getting at. "Why do you need to know the shade of our dress?"

"No reason!" Edmund quickly spoke up, almost cutting off Annette. "Just genuine curiosity, that's all." Margaret's ears perked up because the last time he mentioned such a phrase, he had been up to something.

"We should be going." Caspian said in an attempt to cover up Edmund's nerves. Annette, however, saw through this and raised her eyebrows with curiosity. Caspian diverted his eyes away from her in response. "The kingdom calls!"

The two boys left to join Peter before another word could be said on the matter. Margaret and Annette watched the back of their heads, pure confusion written upon both of their faces. After a while, Margaret leaned towards Annette. "Do you have any idea as to what they're getting at?" Her friend shook her head, causing Margaret's shoulders to slump. "Ratsnacks, I was afraid you'd say that."

"What?" Annette chuckled, turning towards her friend. "Ratsnacks?"

"Oh, heh." Margaret said, nervously placing her hands behind her back. "Did I say that? How embarrassing!" She began backing away in the direction Edmund and Caspian had just gone off in. The main reason for this was because Margaret was nosey and wanted to know what the two boys were up to, and she had to do it alone. Why? Because Annette _normally_ protests spying on friends, and one person is less easy to spot than two. "The sun must be getting to me. I'll just….step inside for a while. Bye!"

Margaret backtracked a little before spinning on her heels and running inside. "Margaret, wait!" Annette tried to call after her, but it was no use. Margaret was paying no attention to Annette whatsoever and was nearly halfway towards the door. "What on earth are you up to?" She grumbled after her, fully knowing that Margaret was about to do something. Annette planned on chasing after her friend, but something else caught her attention.

An older man with curled, black hair was leaning against the side of the castle walls. He had a scar running through his left eye and facial hair surrounding the lower potions of his face. Although to an outsider he appeared threatening, Annette felt no fear towards him. In fact, she only held curiosity as she approached this forlorn looking man.

"Excuse me, sir?" Annette questioned after a small cough. "May I ask you a question?"

The man was startled, and his suddenly wide eyes showed for it, but he did not jump away from this girl's sudden approach. By now he was so used to unexpected sounds that they no longer frightened him. He nodded his head for her to continue; he recognized her but never imagined that she'd approach him.

"I'm Annette, by the way, newly titled Lady of Narnia." Annette's intentions were not to brag, she just felt as though saying her full title would be more formal. He was an older than her.

"Glozelle, former General of the Telmarine army."

Annette smiled to herself. She knew he was the same general; it was just nice to finally have a name to call him by. Again, Annette released a cough before continuing on with her question. "Why did you spare us?" Glozelle slightly tilted his head and pushed himself off the wall, pretending not to understand her question. Annette took a deep breath and began to explain. "I saw you refuse to give the orders to fire at us during the raid. Then during the final battle, you could have killed me! But you didn't. Instead, you handed me back my dagger and ran off. Why?" Her voice was calm and sincere, showing her interest into his reasoning.

The general looked Annette up and down. How does one so young have such superior insight? Anyone would notice when an enemy spares their life, but not all would delve deeper into its meaning. The normal attitude would be to consider themselves lucky, or assume that their opponent was just frightened to kill a human being. Or, in his case, they'd think he couldn't kill someone who still had a whole life to live. However General Glozelle's thought were preventing him from answering the girl before him, and she most definitely deserved an answer.

"Well, Lady Annette, it was dishonorable." Annette eyed him with more curiosity, and Glozelle took this as a need to explain himself further. "At the raid, you were all fairly retreating. There was no need to fire down upon you, especially since your backs were to us. Lord Miraz saw it differently and fired the first arrow your way. Not only that, but my men were down there. If I were to give the signal to fire, many men would die on my hands. Wives would be without husbands, and children without fathers. I would be responsible for this.

"The final battle, as you call it, had a different reasoning entirely. I had fairly disarmed you, but that was without knowing who you were. Just by looking at your appearance I could tell you were not a Telmarine, so therefore you must be from where the Narnians 'Kings and Queens of Old' are from; except you are not in the scriptures from that time. You were new to the land, and probably had just learned how to yield a sword while I have had years of training and experience. What sort of man would I be to take the life of someone as inexperienced as you?"

Annette's eyes traced the general's face as he spoke, trying to find any sort of trickery in his explanation. When she saw that none ever crossed his face, Annette didn't know whether to feel joy over her initial feeling that he was different or shock because he had not lied to her. She mulled over her thoughts as Glozelle patiently awaited the response he would receive. When a smile crossed over Annette's face, he knew she understood his views on the situations.

"Thank you, General Glozelle." Annette said, sticking her hand out. "I always knew there was something different about out."

Not quite understanding what to do, Glozelle shook the girl's hand. Annette looked from her hand to the unspeaking general, suddenly becoming bashful and uncertain of herself. With a nervous smile, Annette did a small curtsy and headed off into the castle. Before she was fully concealed by the castle's walls, a mumbled phrase entered her ears that resembled that of a 'Thank you.'

~.~.~.~.

It was early evening when Margaret made her appearance onto the balcony. Straight away she slumped onto the railing, her chin resting against its smooth surface. Her mission to discover just what Edmund and Caspian were up to ended in failure, and she was not at all happy with it. After following the two of them around, Margaret was spotted by none other than Peter Pevensie. She was forced to make up another awkward excuse, this time about getting lost in the castle, and quickly vanish out of sight. The only person to openly question her was Edmund, but Margaret pretended not to hear and rounded the corner away from the three of them.

"Margaret?" The familiar voice of a worried Annette called out from behind Margaret. She groaned before turning to face her friend. "Margaret, are you alright?"

"Yes, just a little disheartened from my mission earlier today."

Annette chuckled at her friend before joining her at the railing. Margaret had told Annette about her scheming of the day when they were both being worked on by the maids. It was a bit strange, having other people powder their faces and pull back their hair, but Margaret and Annette weren't entirely complaining about it either.

"Perhaps if you take your own advice and stopped prying into other's conversations you wouldn't feel like this." Annette's voice was light and in no way sounded as though she were scolding Margaret.

"That's easy for you to day." Margaret said with a roll of her eyes. She looked up and smirked at her friend. "You never snoop around."

"I do….just not the same way in which you do." Annette continued to smile, shaking her head at her friend.

"Right. Do you really expect me to believe….that….that…." A flash of gold made its way into Margaret's peripheral vision. When she looked over at it, her eyes nearly doubled in size and she forgot she was speaking with Annette.

Following Margaret's eyes, Annette spun around only to become just as surprised to see Aslan sitting before them. His tail encircled around his front paws and his eyes glimmered with humor from seeing the reaction of Margaret and Annette. The two friends quickly glanced at one another before offering a small curtsy as a form of greeting.

When they rose back up, it was Margaret who spoke out first. "Aslan, what are you doing in my room?"

"Margaret!" Annette scolded, lightly hitting her friend on the arm. "Don't be so bold."

"Still creative, I see." The Lion chuckled at the two friends, causing them both to warily look down at their feet. "What is bold and what is not can only be determined by the actions of others."

"You see, Annette?" Margaret grinned, rising her head to look at her friend. "Since he entered my room without my knowledge, it's only right to inquire as to why."

Annette shot a glare at Margaret as she and the Lion chuckled in unison. It's not that Annette was angry with her friend for solving the riddle, she was just angry with herself for not thinking it up. It was only common sense!

"Very good, my child. I see this country has taught you much." Aslan inclined his head towards Margaret, who blushed and backed up slightly. "As for why I am here, it is you, Annette, who should know this answer. I sense it has been pulling at your heart for some time now."

Sadly, Annette looked from the mighty Lion back to the now curious Margaret. "It's about leaving, isn't it?"

Aslan nodded, but all Margaret could do was clutch onto the railing for support. Why would this topic enter her life in the midst of such a splendid day? "We're not leaving soon, are we? Please tell me we have a few more weeks!"

"That day will come, but to tell you when will only sadden you. Do not count the days until a departure; enjoy the remaining time given to you." He looked directly at Margaret as he spoke those words because Annette had figured this out herself just two days prior. Margaret analyzed his words, but she couldn't stop the tears from rising in her eyes. She wanted to stay in Narnia for just a little while longer not because she wanted to delay going back to England, but because she wanted to spend more time with Annette.

"Aslan, please don't make us go back soon!" The Lion continued to gaze at her, his wise face showing no signs as to how soon they were to leave. Without an answer, Margaret grabbed her friend's hand. She didn't even try to hold back the oncoming tears. "I don't mean to sound greedy or….or selfish, Annette, but I _need_ you. Without you back in England, I don't know how I'd manage myself! I'd be all alone. My parents….they're trying to be at home more, but you know it'll never come to pass. And the Pevensies….they've become dear friends of ours, but what if we never get around to seeing them? Letters are never as nice as an actual person. And….and….I just need you. You're my family." Margaret looked into the now teary eyed face of her friend and quickly released her hand. Slowly, she headed towards her room. "I'm sorry, Annette. I don't mean to burden you. Do whatever you like."

However Annette wasn't ready for her to go; especially after a speech like that. "Margaret?" She hesitantly reached after Margaret, pausing before actually grabbing a hold of her arm. "Please stop. We can talk about this."

"I'm fine, Annette. See?" Margaret spun around and flashed her friend a smile, although the tears running down her face certainly proved her otherwise. "I'm just going to put on my dress." Margaret quickly returned to her room before anything else could be said, leaving Annette alone with the always observing Aslan.

"I-If I decided to go…." Annette began after taking many shaking breaths. "Would I ever return to Narnia?"

"There is no telling what lies in store for you. If you leave, you may not come back; just as if you stay, you may never see Margaret again. You must decide for yourself which path to take and which obstacle to face."

"I can't bare either." She said, turning away from Aslan. "You were wrong in thinking I was strong enough for such decisions. Can't you just tell me what I should do?"

Keeping the same poised face he always wore, Aslan strode over towards the torn Annette. "If I pick for you, what lesson will you learn? Without realizing it, you have already shown your strength this day."

"How so?" Annette asked, although Aslan remained silent to see if she could figure it out herself. Minutes passed before she came to any sort of conclusion. "Do you mean when I spoke with General Glozelle?"

Aslan nodded and his ears peeked out of his mane. "Without anyone asking of you otherwise, you approached this man to figure out something troubling your heart. No one guided you, my child. You chose for yourself."

Annette remained silent, allowing for Aslan's words to sink in. She never thought of this desire of hers as a demonstration of valor. Wasn't she just being curious? Then again, as Aslan said, no one else pushed her to ask Glozelle, a complete stranger to her at the time. What if she had accomplished something for herself?

"I suppose you're right." Annette finally replied, wiping her face dry. A small chuckle escaped her once she looked down at her sleeves. "I suppose I shall have to get my face done all over again before putting on my dress." A smile could be seen on the Lion's face. A strange thought, but one Annette had become used to after spending so much time with him. "Would you mind coming with me? You'd be a great comfort, both to me and Margaret."

"As you wish, dear one." Aslan said. Annette lightly grabbed his golden main and allowed for the Lion to lead her back inside.

Already Aslan's presence was lightening her heart, which was exactly what she and Margaret needed before going to dinner and the ball. Only magic could lift the dreary mood the girls had suddenly drifted into, and Aslan surely knew his way around magic.


	26. Lady Margaret's Ball

**Hello everyone! I'm terribly sorry for the long wait. My winter was busier than I had expected, and this chapter has somehow become much longer than I had originally intended for it to be. Hopefully that doesn't upset you. (; I'm sure it won't.**

**Enjoy! Hope you all have a lovely Valentine's Day/Singles Awareness Day! (I'm the second one, FYI. AND LOVIN' IT.)**

**~Mistro**

**P.S. If you ever wonder what it's like when MisticLight and I try and plan these things, here's a summary she came up with one day on instant message…**

"Margaret stepped here next to a faun while Annette dodged under the arm of a bear. Meanwhile, Caspian and Edmund were hopping on one foot ann Peter tried to dance in a circle with a bunch of dryads. Poor Lucy was the shortest amongst the centaurs and their lively jive, and Susan twirled in the center of some minotaurs. BUT THE GRIFFINS WANTED TO DANCE! So they swooped down and took all of the royals into the air and threw them all around. Everyone laughed. THE END."

**Just a heads up… that may just be better than the actual chapter. ANYWAY! Here are the links to Annette and Margaret's dresses. Oo lala! Just take out the spaces when you paste it in the URL, and voila! BTW- the blue one does NOT have that weird silver, dangly thing on the skirt…**

http:/ www. dawnsmedievaldresses. co. uk /images/burgundy%20ren. jpg

http:/ . com/albums/ww112/lady_alegria/ Blue-medieval-dress. jpg

~.~.~.~.~

Margaret let the heavy wooden door close softly behind her. Somewhere inside of her, she wanted to slam it shut. She wanted to slam it so hard that it echoed through the palace. She wanted the world to understand her frustration. _If they can't see it_, she thought, _maybe they will at least hear it._ Her fingers were shaking as she leaned her back against the apple tree that was carved into her door. She couldn't stop her eyelids from drooping as her mind pondered the last time she had a decent sleep. _Stay awake, Margaret. You have a ball to attend… You have to look and act your best._

But, how? How could she look her best? How could she put on that charming smile that was expected of her? She didn't know the first thing about being a lady. Back in England, she wore plain blue dresses and her uniform. Her shoes were worn from long, muddy walks along the river and her hair was hardly ever tamed. "Oh no." Her whole body slumped until it sunk to the floor. With a groan, she rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms. "What am I doing here? I have to get home. My _actual _home."

She leaned her head backwards with a heavy sigh. Her blue eyes continued to block out the world around her. It was true; Margaret was no Lady of Narnia, but the thought of returning home scared her out of her wits. She loved that magical land so much that it scared her. She never admitted that to anyone, let alone herself. Yet, there were duties back home that needed attending to. She had an entirely different life back there… and a family. _If Annette stays here, though…_ she thought darkly. _I may as well have no one. _

Margaret bitterly pulled herself off from the gold and brown tapestry floor. Her body drug itself over to her bed as she lazily began to strip her day clothes off. Her hands mechanically held up the dazzling blue dress spread out across her blanket. As her eyes glossed over the oceanic fabric, sunlight made the silver flowers on the skirt and sleeves sparkle. With another sigh, she pulled it over her head and pulled her long, blonde waves out from her collar. The ball suddenly felt like a duty, rather than something enjoyable.

Feeling a bit weak and tired, she pulled herself up to a mirror at a vanity. Her own eyes never looked back at her as she rummaged through the drawers for a brush. As she lifted up a silver-plated comb and began to stroke out her tangles, an old tune came fluttering into her head.

"_I work in the palace ballroom_…" She sang in a soft, squeaky alto as her brush lazily made its way through her gold locks. "_But, gee, that palace is cheap_…" Margaret stopped singing for a moment in order to allow herself a laugh. She thought of the ballroom that she would be dancing in that night. It would be anything _but _cheap.

She thought of the song, titled 'Ten Cents a Dance', and remembered the first time she heard it play in her living room. She was about seven, and her parents had both gasped with excitement when those first jazz chords sung their way out of the Crosley radio. "This song hasn't been on in years," her mother cooed as she flicked her auburn hair behind her shoulder. Margaret watched as her parents both stopped their work and began to waltz romantically. It was a magical memory; the kind you don't forget. Her parents were always drowning themselves in something. Whether it was work, housekeeping, or politics, they never seemed to have time for each other… or even her. She would never forget the moment she saw them come undone.

That was what she was going to do. She was going to forget all about her life back in England. She was going to forget the war over there, and the finished one in Narnia. Forget about Annette staying, or leaving. Forget about her fears and insecurities. Tonight it was going to be magical. It _had _to be.

She let her heavy comb fall from her hands and finally lifted her face to the mirror. Her blue eyes shot out like diamonds in her V-neck, fairytale dress. After she placed a silver, leaf wreath around her head, she stopped and allowed herself to stare once again. It was hard not to notice an aura swimming around her. She couldn't resist turning her lips up into a smile.

_If I am dreaming, _she thought with amusement. _I'm only getting started._

~.~.~.~.~

Annette waited impatiently outside of the dining room. She was shaking in the courtyard in her dress, and every time she breathed, her breath turned into swirls of chilly mist. It was freezing, but she was determined to wait for Margaret. "How typical," she grumbled aloud. Margaret was always struggling to be on time.

Annette glumly remembered the sharpness of Margaret's voice and the piercing of her eyes earlier that day. Aslan had made Annette feel slightly better about the situation, but she wanted for nothing more than for Margaret to feel okay with whatever she chose to do. Tonight would be a night to forget about the past for a while. She wanted the ball to be special, but to do that, she needed her best friend.

It wasn't long after these thoughts came fluttering into her mind that she heard the soft shuffling of slipper-heels making their way up the staircase. A similarly flushed Margaret came stumbling up the stairs. Annette's eyes grew wide at the sight of her powerful blue dress. "Margaret…" She stuttered, clearly at a loss for words. "You look…"

"Older?" Margaret frowned as she uncomfortably readjusted her sleeves. "Yes, I know. I think so too. You, on the other hand, look like a princess." Margaret paused, rethinking her thoughts. "Not in a childish way. You look dazzling, Annette." Her eyes glanced towards her friend's dress. Its long sleeves danced around her arms as the sensational deep red of her dress was modest against the gold patches on the skirt. Her neck was decorated with a gothic necklace that hugged her throat. Their dresses couldn't have been more different. Her silky, dark locks were pulled up into a neat bun, with some rebellious curls escaping to frame her face. She too wore a halo, only golden. "I see we're matching," she smiled as she tapped her silver one lightly.

There was still a sadness lounging in the back of her voice, but Annette rushed up to her friend and pulled her into a tight hug. It took a moment for Margaret's arms to find their way around her friend, but when they did, they returned the embrace. "Just forget about it," Margaret mumbled before she let go. "I'm not going to bring it up."

"I'm not either," Annette reassured. "I just want tonight to be fun. I was so worried you wouldn't show up. It would have never have been fun without you."

Margaret smirked as a single, dark eyebrow lifted itself up in mockery. "You think I don't know that?" She teased, before letting out an airy laugh. "Come on." She grabbed her friend's cold hand in her own. "Let's have the time of our lives."

~.~.~.~.~

Margaret stared blankly down at the scoop of ice cream in the polished, glass bowl before her. The cherry on top winked at her, and she swore she saw the chocolate sauce extend little fingers to pull her closer. "I can't eat this, no matter how good it looks," she groaned, pushing it resentfully away from her. "I've eaten far too much as it is. My dress can hardly fit anymore."

"Oh, just eat it," Peter laughed with a mouthful of ice cream. For being a King, he still had teenage manners. "It's delicious, and your dress looks fine. You don't look too much worse than you did when you came in." Margaret smirked. That was Peter's form of a compliment, but she would take it.

Edmund smiled from behind his spoon across the table. He sat diagonally from her, and though it was difficult to speak from their distance, she never had trouble finding his eyes. His starry gaze passed a secret onto Margaret. _Don't listen to him, _she imagined him saying. _You look lovely._

"Well," she sighed as she scooped up her small spoon. "It's not every day you get Telmarine ice cream. I suppose I might as well take it while it's here." And with that, she scooped out a very large portion, which disappeared as quickly as it came. She smiled after licking her lips. "You're right, Peter. That _is_ delicious."

Annette laughed aloud at her friend's behavior. "Even at a fancy dinner, you manage to be-"

"Charming?" Margaret interjected before her friend got a word in. She shrugged and casually licked the back of her spoon. "I know. No need to point out the obvious."

Peter's brows rose dramatically. He watched as Margaret finished off what was left of her ice cream, and then turned his attention back to Annette. "_Charming_ wasn't exactly my first word choice. I'm highly curious as to what you were thinking for a more… accurate description."

Margaret's mouth dropped into a frown as she warningly pointed her spoon towards Peter. "You'd better be careful with what you say," she mumbled darkly. "You're the one who has to dance with me tonight. And I may just feel like having _slippery _feet." Peter said nothing in response. His head dropped as he slowly returned to his meal. "That's what I thought."

Though Margaret was dead serious, the rest of the table couldn't resist laughing. With a casual grin towards Peter, Margaret daintily plucked the cherry off the top, and swallowed it in one bite.

~.~.~.~.~

"I can't do this," Margaret though, but accidently said aloud. Caspian and Annette both turned their heads quickly towards a petrified Margaret, whose eyes were locked on the swirling dancers. Aslan had just announced her and Annette as Ladies of Narnia, but Margaret still felt like a little girl of eight. "I can't ball room dance. I can't dance, period."

The three of them were standing near an outside balcony of the ball room. The room was starting to get warm from the crowded, but glamorous looking people. The cold evening air was refreshing against their skin, but Margaret was growing hotter the closer it came for her to dance.

"Of course you can." Annette placed a comforting hand on her friend's arm. "I've seen you dance before and you're fine."

Margaret sighed with angst as her eyes remained fixed on the spinning couples. "That's not the same! School dances are different. This is the real thing. I'm wearing a gown, and they're spinning." Margaret felt herself swaying and it wasn't even the end of the first dance. "I'm getting dizzy just watching them."

Caspian and Annette exchanged uncertain glances, though it was clearly up to Annette to make her friend feel better. "Why don't you go sit down, Margaret?" She offered a soft smile. "You probably still feel full from dinner and aren't ready to dance. You will be soon, and I promise that it will come naturally to you."

Margaret continued quickly. "We're Ladies of Narnia. We have to dance next. It's up to us, isn't it? I mean… Don't we have to show off our skills and our dresses? Both of which I find difficult to deal with at the moment." Her shaking fingers firmly tugged at her the back of her dress.

Annette's brows tightened on her forehead. Nothing she had said was getting through to her friend and she was finding it harder to calm her. Just as she was about to suggest sitting down once again, Caspian made his way in front of Margaret. Her sapphire eyes snapped away from the dancing and onto the face of the handsome King. Though he was smiling, she couldn't help but feel suddenly frightened.

Unexpectedly, his hand shot out towards Margaret, who stood utterly baffled by the scene before her. "I'm an excellent dancer. I promise you; if you dance with me first, you will be able to dance with anyone by the evening."

"Even a centaur?" Margaret tried to joke, but her nervous voice came out in a squeak.

Caspian said nothing, but instead offered her his winning smile. She felt her shoulders dropping as she stared at his reassuring grin. He was confident, that was obvious. There was just one problem. He wasn't hers. She couldn't dance with him first; Annette would be the one to do that.

"Go dance with him!" Annette nudged her friend, despite Margaret's inner warnings. "He will help you feel more at ease."

Margaret was reaching out for his hand very cautiously when the next song started to play. With a shriek of surprise, she pulled him out quickly onto the marble floor. He couldn't resist laughing at her nerves. Carefully, he placed her in his arms. "Margaret," he whispered as the violin's voice began to swell. "Do not forget to breathe."

"Right," she laughed. "Breathing. That's what I'm forgetting."

She barely had time to figure out what tune it was before Caspian started pulling her away. With another surprised shriek, she stumbled forward, nearly collapsing onto his velvety chest. He quickly straightened her up with an obviously strained smile on his face. Margaret could feel her cheeks burning. She decided it was best if she stayed quiet.

A silent minute had passed before Margaret realized her feet were still intact, along with the expensive vases displayed around the room. She was certain that she would have knocked them over by now. "I'm doing it." Her voice was confident for the first time that evening. "I haven't hurt you yet, either!" Her previous shrieks turned into delighted giggles.

"I am still in one piece. Thank you for that."

"This is very exciting." Margaret and Caspian twirled around as the song continued to grow lusher. "I feel like I'm floating on air."

His brown eyes twinkled. "I know how you feel." Margaret followed his suddenly distracted gaze. Her heart began to pound as she found him staring at Annette. For a second, she wanted to ask him about his feelings, but decided it was not the time. It took him a moment to peel his eyes away from her gorgeous friend, but when he did, Margaret just couldn't contain herself.

"She's stunning tonight, isn't she?"

"Who?" Caspian blinked with discomfort. He obviously hadn't wanted Margaret to catch him staring, but Margaret had a keen eye. His cheeks turned as rosy as the actual flower behind him.

"Don't play dumb with me." She momentarily removed her hand from his to shake a finger in his face. "We all know where your eyes lie tonight. I just want to let you know that you have my permission and approval." Margaret politely inclined her head, as though he had been waiting for her acceptance all along.

Caspian was at a loss for words. He tripped over a few syllables until he eventually gave up. He wore a nervous smile for the rest of the dance, which luckily was no more than a few seconds. "Well, I have to thank you!" Margaret breathed dreamily. "I suppose I am up to par with you and your lovely dancing skills." With a small curtsy, she skipped over towards her next victim, leaving Caspian breathless and confused.

"Hello, Peter." Margaret snatched his hand without a warning. His eyes grew wide as she hauled him out onto the floor. They were no doubt getting stares from the people and creatures around them, but she didn't care. She was ready to show him that she was good at _something_. "Straighten yourself up," she warned. "You're slouching. I don't dance with slouchers."

"Well, Margaret, thank you so very much for asking me to dance with you." Peter rolled his eyes, but couldn't resist a grin. "You'd better watch yourself. I'm better than what you might think. Trust me, I had years of practice."

"Oh right," Margaret laughed as she slipped her warm hand in his cold one. "I forgot that the Pevensies were actually quite old. What a funny notion."

Peter smiled at this, but dropped his noble eyes towards his perfectly polished shoes. Margaret felt a strain in her heart as she watched him. _Why is he upset? _It's not like he wasn't young anymore. It's not like he couldn't come back to Narnia. There was little time to think of anything else before the music suddenly shot up.

The two of them danced silently for a while. Peter's eyes would occasionally land on Margaret's, but then after a small smile he would go back to inspecting the rest of the room. Peter was still an enigma. While it was clear Edmund and her had feelings for one another, and the same with Caspian and Annette, what of Peter? Did he have someone?

_Never a better time to ask than now._ "So, tell me…" Margaret muttered slowly. "Do you have anyone special back home?"

Peter's head instantly shot itself back towards his partner. "Excuse me?" Margaret frowned, not wishing to repeat her clearly obvious question. "No," Peter scoffed. "No, I do not. That's ridiculous."

"Why on Earth is that ridiculous?"

"Because I just don't," he mumbled. "If I have to go back home and enlist, there's no point anyway. There's a war going on…I'm in school…I'm young. There are plenty of reasons as to why it's ridiculous."

Margaret saw something flicker behind his light eyes. They reminded her a bit of her own. She saw softness in them behind all of that angst. It wasn't the first time Peter struggled to compose himself in front of her. He was easily readable, despite his often headstrong nature. "You need to relax a little more." Her fingers lightly squeezed his tense hand. "You're doing fine."

Peter wasn't looking at her, but a smile slipped across his tanned face. The candlelight upon it made him look even more handsome than what he already was. He was certainly a King. There was no questioning that. "I already told you I was a good dancer."

"I didn't just mean dancing. You're a great leader. You're a great older brother. Sometimes, you just need to have more confidence in yourself." Margaret's voice was surprisingly gentle, considering the two were often at one another's throats. She did have a soft spot for Peter and she knew that. It was just a matter of keeping it hidden.

"You're not too bad yourself," Peter said as they twirled for the last time. "And when we go back to England, you have to promise you'll keep in touch." She nodded with firmness. The Pevensies weren't getting rid of her that easily.

As the cello finished off the upbeat song, everyone's hands came together for the lovely Telmarine orchestra. Margaret's cheeks were flushed once again, but this time with delight. Tonight was already becoming magical. Now, she just needed one last thing to make it perfect.

Unfortunately, that would have to wait.

"Annette…" She heard Susan's voice call out to her friend. Annette dropped hands with Edmund, whom she had just finished dancing with, and focused her gentle eyes on Susan. "Can we talk?" Both Annette and Margaret's eyes grew wide. Unsure of what else to do, Annette shot Margaret a threatened look. Ever so slightly, Margaret nodded towards her friend. Susan couldn't be talking about anything too serious, right?

Except Caspian, that is.

"Margaret!" A voice rang out next to her, startling her just as the music loudly started up again. She stared down at a charming, brightly dressed Lucy. "I was just going to get some punch. Did you want to join me? I heard you like reading, and I was just thinking about this new book I read."

Pathetically, Margaret took a long glance towards Edmund. Would she ever get to dance with him? It didn't matter. He was already out on the floor dancing with a startlingly gorgeous Telmarine girl. "Yes, Lucy." Margaret attempted to smile. "Of course I'd love to hear about it."

Lucy seemed genuinely happy as she made her way towards the drinks. Margaret watched the curious little girl sniff each tropical colored punch before she carefully chose the orange that matched her hair. "Well, it was so lovely. It was called _Kidnapped_. Have you read it?"

"Oh, of course!" Margaret gasped. "Pirates were always very fascinating to me. Any sort of adventure on the high seas gets my blood pumping. Wouldn't you agree?"

Lucy shrugged heavily. "It used to get my blood pumping, but when we were older in Narnia, we would always travel on the seas. It's not as thrilling as it used to be, but it has been an awfully long time…" Her voice trailed off into distant memories of a more dazzling time. Margaret couldn't help but wonder the serious and adult-like thoughts Lucy held. In reality, she really did have the mind of an older women. _That'll certainly help her grades back home, no doubt. I wish I had that sort of luck. _Gloomily, Margaret thought of her science class and of the summer courses she would probably have to take.

"You think a lot, don't you?" Lucy laughed with her lips on the rim of her goblet.

Margaret blinked, snapping out of her random thoughts. "I…suppose I do. It's irritating, isn't it?"

"Not at all." Lucy shook her head. Margaret knew she wasn't kidding. "I like it. People who think about things are always the interesting kinds of people."

Margaret couldn't help but take the young girl's words as a compliment. Her zoning out was no doubt considered a bad habit at boarding school, and was often cursed by her long-nosed teachers. With pride, she allowed herself to snatch a chocolate truffle from the buffet. _A treat, _she thought. _For being interesting._

"Oh, look, the dance is over already!" Lucy grinned as she put her hands together for the dancers. "Balls are so much fun. I wish they could last forever."

"I don't know if my feet could handle _that_," Margaret imagined as she turned her back from the floor. Her fingers swooped up another tempting chocolate and it swiftly found its way to her mouth.

"Would you like to dance with me?" A voice sung out behind her. Her ears perked up instantly. She could feel her cheeks getting warmer, as if they weren't already red enough. She twirled on her silver shoes to face her unsurprising visitor with her mouth still full of candy.

"Edmund," she winced, though she couldn't help herself from smiling. She took a big swallow and flashed her hopefully white teeth. It was instinct around him, but she had to admit that she was suddenly back to being nervous. "I would…" She tried to answer him, but felt Lucy's thrilled eyes on her. She glanced at them briefly and saw the pressure written all over them. "I would… love that."

_Oh, no… He's coming for my hand. He's holding my hand! Why are my fingers so awkwardly positioned around his? Do they always look like that? Am I holding it wrong? Oh, stop it, Margaret. He's grabbing your waist. Grab his waist. No! Not his waist! His shoulder! Oh, goodness, please let no one be watching. Why are the violins starting up already? It can't possibly be time yet! No, I'm not ready! Not ready, orchestra! Can't you hear me! _

"Margaret!" Edmund whispered firmly with a bitter laugh. "Are you listening to anything I'm saying?"

Margaret's eyes grew wide. "No," she confessed. "No…I… was distracted by my own thoughts. I'm sorry. What… were you saying?"

Edmund sighed as he began to move her about the floor. Hesitantly, she followed in little steps, causing her to trip and stumble backwards. Thankfully his hold on her was tight, and he kept her balance easily. His smile was gone when he answered. "I was telling you how beautiful you looked."

Margaret felt even more stupid. She inhaled deeply and tried to focus on her feet and her words at the same time. "Well, thank you, Edmund. That's very kind of you."

"Margaret."

"Yes?"

"Why are you staring at your feet?"

She groaned and shut her eyes momentarily in frustration. That didn't help the situation, as she once again lost her balance and went stumbling backwards. Edmund quickly leaned forward and caught her waist in both hands as hers found his shoulders. Their faces were dangerously close as she titled backwards. "Thanks for that," she whispered nervously.

Edmund carefully pulled her aside and set her back on her feet. Hot with embarrassment, she raised a hand to her forehead in frustration. "I'm sorry, Edmund," she whimpered. "I can't do this with you. I don't know why. I was perfectly fine earlier…"

"Its fine," he laughed sweetly. Margaret knew he was genuine and found herself only finding him more charming. She cursed herself secretly for looking so much like a fool. "I do wish you would relax a bit, though."

Margaret nodded her curled, blonde head and managed a semi-honest chuckle. She would just have to compose herself. It wasn't the first time someone had asked her to relax, calm down, or settle herself. School teachers gave her that warning nearly every day.

Calmly, she placed her hand back into Edmund's. "I think I'm ready now."

"I'm glad," he smiled as they waltzed their way back onto the floor. The song continued on as the romantic tune took a slower turn. Margaret felt her eyes peeling away from her partner. She cursed the orchestra for choosing the most romantic song yet. Her blushing cheeks were extending down to her collarbone. She hoped she didn't look as foolish as she felt. "I meant what I said, you know." Edmund's voice snapped Margaret out of her thoughts once again.

"What you said about…?"

"You," he smirked. "You really do look lovely." The darkness of his features were absolutely glowing in the illumination of the chandeliers. Margaret had never seen him quite so handsome before, and most of all because of his ravishing choice of a blue suit. His compliment held her at a loss for words, though she knew plenty of things she could praise _him_ about.

"Thank you," she finally sighed. "You absolutely steal the show, however. That color is very fitting on you." A quick laugh bolted from his lips. It was as though Margaret hadn't caught onto a joke being played. "What's so funny?" She loosened her grip on his hand in self-consciousness.

"Isn't it obvious?" He asked. His eyes darted away from her momentarily, locking upon Caspian. Margaret saw him and Annette dancing together, but wondered what he had to do with anything. And then she noticed; the brilliance of his maroon suit. It matched Annette's perfectly, and without distraction of the similar colors.

Margaret gasped a bit, unable to hide her shock. "Oh!" She breathed. "You did it to match us." Edmund nodded simply, waiting for more of a consoling reply than that. Margaret faced her partner and gave his hand a small squeeze. "Well, that's very… romantic, don't you think?"

A witty remark could have been declared by Edmund, but instead he said nothing in response. His pale cheeks suddenly turned a bit pink as his lips curled up into a smile that seemed to hold something hard to express. Margaret knew what he was saying without the words.

Romantic was the point.

The dance had ended much sooner than Margaret had expected, and she only noticed by the audience's sudden applause. She had managed to survive the rest of the dance without looking like a complete idiot, and she gave herself a mental pat on the back. Inside, she wished to continue dancing with him. She thought she could have danced till dawn, if only he asked.

Edmund had let go of her hand, but continued to look at her. His eyes scanned the silver necklace on her neck, and the rest of her ornamental gown. She felt comfortable under his gaze, and for a moment, almost felt beautiful. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt that way, but she knew it wasn't just because of her dress. He made her feel beautiful.

Courage suddenly found its way towards her as she stepped a bit closer towards him. "I'm not tired of dancing… I mean, if you would like to…"

"Yes," Edmund laughed as he scooped her hand in his quickly. "I was sort of hoping you would ask." And with that, they made their way back to the center.

~.~.~.~.~

Laughing, Edmund pulled Margaret off towards a small corner of the room. She pressed her hand to her lips to try and stop her giggling, but nothing seemed to work. She felt so elegant holding a champagne glass in one hand and pressing her perfectly clipped nails to her lips. It was just like she saw all of the rich women do in the films, only it was her this time. "Did anyone see me fall?" She laughed, leaning against his shoulder for support. Edmund was also trying to suppress his laughter.

"I don't know how they couldn't of," he teased. "You were in the center of the room and all eyes were on the dancers."

She let out a bemused chuckle before taking another sip of her fruit juice. Her eyes sparkled as she watched the cello player quicken his pace to the livelier song. "I suppose I was just used to all the slow dances. The tempo threw me off and I suppose I wasn't-"

"It's alright," Edmund sighed happily. "It's the sixth dance. I suppose it was time we took a break. My legs feel like mush anyway. I don't remember a school dance every being quite as fun as this, do you?"

Margaret looked up at him with their shoulders still pressed together. "Never." She carefully set her glass on a nearby table that was held up by golden centaurs. "All this… _Ritz_ is getting to my head. Do you want to go outside for a bit?"

After a nod of Edmund's head, the sapphire duo found themselves outside in the refreshing night breeze. Margaret could feel the wind blowing back her hair and knew that her profile was exposed. Normally self conscious of her button-like nose, she didn't push her hair back to the front. She was who she was. She would never be able to change that. And, funny thing, but Edmund actually seemed to like exactly who she was.

"I don't know how long we're staying," Edmund suddenly blurted into the silence. "I mean, we want to stay, of course. It's just the timing… You never know how long you're gone. It may seem like a week, or a month, but in our world, it could be the year 1988."

Margaret felt her head and smile drop. She thought tonight would be a time to get away from talk of home. Now, it all seemed to be spinning a web around her brain. "Can we not talk about it?" She couldn't help but notice how childish her voice sounded.

Edmund's breathing blended in with the swaying of the trees, but Margaret couldn't hear herself breathing at all. She audibly inhaled a long, drawn out breath. "Are you worried about something?" He asked her carefully.

"No." Her voice was firm as she turned her head towards him. "No, I'm just tired of hearing about it. I wanted tonight to be one where I could let go of those thoughts. Tonight was supposed to be different."

"I'm sorry," he frowned. "I didn't know you felt that way, or else I wouldn't have mentioned it." His voice held concern, but there was a hint of regret laced within it.

Margaret had certainly lashed out at him unexpectedly. She knew it was the wrong thing to do, but bottling it inside was getting harder and harder. With the additional tightness of her corset, the frustration bubbling in her stomach was getting more difficult to keep inside. "It's me," she confessed. "Annette just wants to stay here and I… I don't know if I can do that."

"You can't stay here." Edmund's voice was suddenly loud and determined. He took a step closer towards her, the silver moon making his features seem grey. He looked different than when he was in the candle filled room. He looked worried, almost older.

"Why not?"

"I…" His eyes lost the confidence they held earlier. Now they looked like featureless marbles glued onto the face of a statue. He stood very still until he finally spoke again. "I'm going back to England… and I can't imagine going back without you."

He was going back? Margaret held her breath. Everything was upside down. If Annette stayed, and he went… how could she choose? The boy she was falling for or the best friend who was suddenly willing to leave her behind? It was obvious when you put it like that, but Annette was still important to Margaret. Then again, so were the Pevensies.

"I don't want to go anywhere without you, either." Margaret's voice was a whisper. She inched a bit closer to him, but he didn't seem to notice. His eyes were fixated on the metal curves in the balcony railing. She wondered where his thoughts laid. Carefully, her fingers found his chin as she pulled his face back towards her. "Did you hear me?" Quietly, he nodded. "Good," she smiled. "So, I want you to come back inside and dance with me. Let's just forget about this. Whatever happens, happens. And no matter who ends up where, we know we all love one another."

Edmund's pupils seemed to grow a bit larger at the mere mention of _love. _He said nothing, however, but merely nodded. Margaret was getting ready to pull him back inside until she felt fingers on _her _chin. They pulled her face back to where it had been and she felt the sudden sensation of another pair of lips on hers. Her eyes cracked open in surprise, but she finally allowed herself to relax. She smiled widely after they pulled away, and laughed as she felt strong arms wrap themselves around her waist and spin her around. "I feel like a princess," she chuckled, pulling herself closer towards him after landing on her feet.

"'Lady' would be the correct term." All of the stress was instantly drained from his face. Margaret liked him best that way.

"Right," she winked. "And what a fine one I hope to be." She gripped his hand and began to pull him back inside, when something stopped both of them dead in their tracks. Loud booms began to thunder from behind them. For a split second, Margaret was taken back to the war- England and Narnia- and felt a chill shoot down her spine. However, when she turned around…

"Fireworks?" She gasped, unable to keep her hands from coming together in excitement.

Edmund couldn't resist laughing at her childish attitude, but watched along as the rainbow colors lit up the sky. "Yes," he agreed. "What perfect timing!"

Unafraid, she snuggled her shoulder up next to him. Her eyes watched his face as the fireworks' colored reflections lit up his eyes. "Maybe we can afford to stay out here a bit longer."


	27. In Which Lady Annette Attends A Ball

**Erm, yeah. School got a bit hectic on this side of the world. I'm terribly sorry for the unbearable delay! I felt so guilty with each passing day, please forgive me! It's also really hard to write knowing that the end is near. All of this as been so lovely! (Random side note: the orchestra MistroStrings and I play in is playing music from _Prince Caspian _for the next concert. Small world!)**

**Yes, anyways, I thought that since Mistrostrings shared one of my…interesting brainstorming moments, I'd share one of hers! It's actually from the same conversation, oddly enough:**

"Reepicheep went over to the snack table and realized there was no cheese. Horrified, he ran over to speak to Aslan about it. Aslan shook his head sadly. For, Narnia was all out of cheese. Reepicheep raised his fists to the sky, shaking them with sadness. And darkness encircled him for the rest of the long, lonely night."

**Yeah, you guys chose to follow a story with some crazy writers xD**

**Oh, and in case the links from before for the bases of Margaret and Annette's dress didn't work, here they are again. If they still don't work and you're curious, then just PM me and I can send you the link (again, make sure to erase the spaces after the slashes and periods when you paste the link).**

**Margaret: **http:/ / i711. photobucket. com/ albums/ ww112/ lady_alegria/ Blue-medieval-dress. jpg

**Annette: **http:/ / www. dawnsmedievaldresses. co. uk/ images/ burgundy%20ren. jpg

**~MisticLight**

~.~.~.~.

Very carefully, Annette brushed her brown hair up into a neat bun. She'd only been able to successfully pull this off once before, and it was only after Margaret's mom had finished teaching her how to do it. That had been a treasure itself. Not only did she have a few minutes to spare to help the distraught Annette, but it was one of the closest things Annette had to motherly affection.

She'd never forget the soft, slightly chilled hands that gently combed through her hair, or the calming tone that was used. Margaret's mother had been very patient with Annette, even after the brush had suddenly shot away from her and into Margaret's mother's face. The young Annette had screamed before rapidly firing off many apologies, but Margaret's mother simply remained placid throughout the whole ordeal, even laughing at Annette's babbling self. With an encouraging smile on her face, she placed the brush back into Annette's hand. When the young Annette finally got the bun correct, she squealed in delight and threw herself on Margaret's mother, uttering her thanks over and over again.

Even now Annette was smiling at the memory. How proud she had been that day! She recalled boasting to Margaret of her success, only to have her childish friend demand that Annette now teach _her_ how to do it. Annette had tried, but soon found she was not as talented at giving instructions as Margaret's mother. Well that, and Margaret had become tired of sitting still.

"Oh Margaret," Annette mused aloud, tying a ribbon around her cluster of gathered hair. "Such memories we've had." She gazed at her finished project, never once allowing her green eyes to glance down at her face. Overall Annette was satisfied with her handiwork, although she was a bit annoyed with the few wisps of hair framing her face. They were simply too short to reach the bun.

_They will just have to do, I suppose._ She thought after a stare down with the curls. _It's not as though they are too distracting…_

Annette inspected her hair once more before sighing and retrieving the golden leaf wreath that had been laid out for her to wear. She slowly slipped it onto her head, as if stalling the moment in which she would finally look upon herself. _Well,_ Annette mentally urged herself as she straightened the crown, _Here goes nothing._

With a final intake of breath, Annette stepped back. The girl she saw in the mirror hardly resembled the one back in England. She stood taller, more confident than ever before. Her emerald eyes were quite a contrast from her soft red dress, but Annette was no longer afraid of their boldness. In fact, she was quite delighted with them.

Despite the smile on her face, Annette suddenly became upset with the reflection. Would her parents approve of her now? Would they have stayed with her, knowing she'd evolve into this person?

Annette reached out to graze the mirror, but quickly withdrew her hand. Now was not the time for such thoughts!

She shook her head and plopped down upon her bed, where she slipped her feet into a pair of golden slippers. Every so often she would peek up at the mirror and smile before feeling embarrassed and looking down again. Excitement was building, and it was easily shutting out the dark memories of her parents.

Deep inside, Annette knew tonight was going to be magical. For once everything was going to be carefree, and she planned on keeping it that way. Nothing, not even her parents, would dampen her sprits.

Well, unless Margaret decided not to come.

Annette's eyes widened at the possibility and she quickly exited the room to find her friend. _If she's not going, then neither am I!_

~.~.~.~.

Margaret blissfully left her room, thoughts of the night dreamily passing through her mind as she hummed 'Ten Cents a Dance'. Each step towards the dinning hall seemed to be dancing in rhythm with the song, although Margaret couldn't quite tell whether to call it dancing or shivering. Either way it was a very pleasant walk, despite knowing how late it was.

The delicious sent of food filled Margaret's nostrils, making her stomach grumble from the warming sensation. Her pace quickened. In a few short moments, Margaret knew she would be eating many delicious Narnian and Telmarine delicacies this evening. All she had to do was run up some stairs.

_Just a few more steps! _She excitedly thought. _Then I can see for myself how appetizing the food will be._

Now Margaret wasn't too keen on entering the crowded hall alone _and_ late, so it was a bit of a relief when she discovered her wide eyed friend waiting at the top of the steps. She was shivering, and Margaret assumed that they were wearing matching flushed faces.

"Margaret…" Annette stuttered as she gazed upon Margaret's powerful blue dress. The silver flowers on the skirt glimmered in the dim light, as did the sleeves, which floated around her arms. The silver necklace Margaret wore dangled low enough to perfectly hang between her neck and the v-neck lining of the dress. Annette was simply at a loss for words. "You look…"

"Older? Yes, I know. I think so too." Margaret frowned, feeling a bit uncomfortable. She absentmindedly readjusted her sleeves before taking in Annette's appearance. "You, on the other hand, look like a princess." Margaret paused, rethinking her thoughts. "Not in a childish way. You look dazzling, Annette." Her eyes glanced towards her friend's dress. Its long sleeves danced around her arms as the sensational deep red of her dress was modest against the gold patches on the skirt. Her neck was decorated with a gothic necklace that hugged her throat. Their dresses couldn't have been more different. Annette, too, wore a halo, only hers was golden. "I see we're matching." Margaret sheepishly smiled as she lightly tapped the silver crown sitting stop her blonde wavy hair.

There were still hints of sadness in Margaret's voice, and Annette instantly detected it. She felt guilty for causing such misery to surround her friend. Without a second thought, Annette rushed up to her and pulled her into a tight hug. She silently prayed Margaret would hug her back and clear all the tension between them from before.

It took a moment for Margaret's arms to find their way around Annette, but when they did, they returned the embrace. "Just forget about it," Margaret mumbled before she let go. "I'm not going to bring it up."

"I'm not either," Annette reassured. "I just want tonight to be fun. I was so worried you wouldn't show up. It would have never have been fun without you."

Margaret smirked, lifting her eyebrow in mockery. "You think I don't know that?" She teased, causing Annette to roll here eyes. Everything was back to the way it was before, and Margaret couldn't help but let out an airy laugh. "Come on." She lightly said, grabbing her friend's cold hand. "Let's have the time of our lives."

~.~.~.~.

The celebratory feast that had been laid out was the largest gathering of food Annette had ever seen! She couldn't remember a time when her plate had been clean, or her cup empty. The mood also ran high throughout the course of the meal, considering they were sitting by the equally excited Pevensies and Caspian.

However, that was before Margaret and Annette had to be announced in front of the citizens of Narnia. The merriment from dinner soon morphed into nerves as the two friends patiently waited behind two large doors. Being of a lesser rank, it was their duty to be called upon first. This only strengthened their fears.

"What if I fall down the stairs?" Margaret suddenly asked with wide eyes. "I mean, look at the length of our dresses! One moment we're walking down the top of the steps, the next we're face down at the bottom. People would be whispering about us the rest of the night."

"Margaret, they're just stairs." Annette smiled, although the fear of tripping was now planted inside her mind. A flash of worry crossed her face, and Margaret was quick to catch it.

"Ah-ha! Now you're thinking about it too!" She pointed her finger accusingly at Annette.

Annette batted her friend's hand away. "So what if it is? That doesn't make them any less avoidable." Out of the corner of her eye, Annette saw Margaret's hands cross over her chest in a small pout.

"And _that _doesn't make them any less intimidating." Mumbled Margaret, her eyes never leaving the door handle. The deep, muffled voice of Aslan could be heard on the opposite side, signaling that she and Annette would soon be on public display. Margaret glanced over at her friend, finding it strange that she was actually _excited _about this.

"Margaret, do you hear that?" She chirped, desperately trying to make out the words. "Just a few more minutes and we'll be done with this whole thing."

Although Annette's words were meant to be encouraging, Margaret was still panicked. She looked up to her friend for support. "You'll be with me, right? You won't walk ahead or anything?"

Annette's excited features softened into sincerity, and a smile crossed her lips. "Of course, Margaret. I'll be with you the entire time."

"Good." Margaret said, releasing a breath she didn't realize she was holding before facing the door once more.

The two friends shared one last glance before the doors burst opened. A brilliant light flashed in their faces, temporarily leaving them blind, as Aslan called them forth, "Presenting Annette and Margaret, Ladies of Narnia."

A thunderous applause filled the air and the smiling friends emerged from the shadows. They slowly made their way down the stairs, keeping in mind what Susan and Lucy had told them about posture.

Much to the relief of Margaret, no one toppled down the staircase.

~.~.~.~.

After everyone had been announced, the dance went into full swing. Annette stood near the edge of an outside balcony of the ball room with Caspian and an unusually quiet Margaret. All three of them, and the Pevensies even, had yet to dance.

As time wore on, Annette knew eventually she'd have to get out there. She glanced over at Caspian with anxiety building inside her. _I hope you aren't my first dance. _Annette found herself thinking. _I don't want to look foolish._

"Are you frightened?" Caspian asked, directing his gaze from the dance to Annette. Her heartbeat suddenly quickened. _It can't be time already, can it?_

"Of dancing? Not really, but…" Annette paused, formulating her next words. She didn't want to just say _he_ was making her nervous in case he took it offensively. Plus, it would be rather embarrassing.

Luckily, Margaret unknowingly came to her rescue by shouting, "I can't do this!" Both she and Caspian turned around to look at Margaret, only to find her petrified gaze on the swirling dancers. "I can't ball room dance. I can't dance, period."

"Of course you can." Annette smiled, placing a comforting hand on her friend's arm. "I've seen you dance before and you're fine."

Margaret sighed with angst, making Annette's smile fall. Her blue eyes never even left the dance floor. "That's not the same! School dances are different. This is the real thing. I'm wearing a gown, and they're spinning. I'm getting dizzy just watching them."

Annette exchanged an uncertain glance with Caspian. Clearly it was up to her to make her friend feel better, but Annette wasn't quite sure how. She nervously looked around, finding them drawn to a perfectly placed chair.

"Why don't you go sit down, Margaret?" She suggested with a soft smile. "You probably still feel full from dinner and aren't ready to dance. You will be soon, and I promise that it will come naturally to you."

"We're Ladies of Narnia." Margaret continued quickly. "We have to dance next. It's up to us, isn't it? I mean…don't we have to show off our skills and our dresses? Both of which I find difficult to deal with at the moment."

Annette could feel her brows tighten as Margaret firmly tugged at the back of her dress. Nothing she had said was getting through to Margaret, and it was becoming progressively harder to calm her. Granted Annette was figuring this out as she went along, but Margaret could at least show some sign of improvement. Then Annette could figure out what to do next.

Just as she was about to urge her 'sitting down' idea again, Caspian brushed passed her to stand before Margaret. The two girls shared a look of surprise when he unexpectedly shot his hand out towards Margaret. "I'm an excellent dancer. I promise you; if you dance with me first, you will be able to dance with anyone by the evening."

"Even a centaur?" Margaret tried to joke, although her nerves made it sound more like a squeak.

Caspian didn't respond. He merely offered her one of his winning smiles. It may have been directed towards Margaret, but Annette soon found her cheeks reddening into a blush. She quickly pushed that aside, however, when she saw Margaret's terribly bewildered face. Right away Annette knew she didn't want to accept on her behalf, but little did Margaret know how much pressure this would relieve.

"Go dance with him!" Annette encouraged with a nudge, despite Margaret's possible thoughts. "He will help you feel more at ease." _And me._ She further thought as Margaret reached for Caspian's hand. A new song started, and, with a shriek of surprise, Margaret quickly pulled the new King out onto the marble floor.

Annette watched the two of them preparing to dance, quite content with her post on the outside balcony. Well she was, until she was suddenly disrupted by a tap on her shoulder. She spun around, not at all expecting to see Peter standing behind her with a partially raised hand.

"Would you care for a dance?" He asked with a smug smile on his face. "I'm sure I won't get a second chance."

"And why is that?" Annette laughed, accepting Peter's request by grabbing his hand. He swiftly escorted Annette onto the dance floor just as the violins began to swell. "Certainly it's not because you have a line of women waiting to dance with you!"

Peter took a hold of Annette and led their dance before answering her. "Well, actually, I do. So you should feel quite honored right now."

Annette rolled her eyes with mock annoyance. "I'm flattered."

"But that's not quite what I was thinking. It's because—Ow! Annette, mind your feet." Annette, embarrassed, looked down at her shoes. She shuffled back, mumbling apologies under her breath, but remained quiet so Peter would continue. "It's _because_ I assumed you'd be with Caspian the whole evening."

Startled green eyes instantaneously lifted from the floor. "What?" Annette's head spun around the dance floor as she tried to find Caspian and Margaret amongst the crowd of swirling dancers. "I-I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about."

Peter chuckled with amusement, but remained silent. He hadn't seen Annette this flustered since their raid on the castle when he had wanted her to kill one of the guards. Peter scrutinized his partner, a hint of remorse tainting in his blue eyes.

"Is something wrong, Peter?" Annette meekly asked. Her face had returned to its normal coloring when she noticed the distracted King. He had kept silent, with his eyes resting on the top of Annette's head. It was making her a bit apprehensive.

"I was just thinking…" He started, lowering his head to make better eye contact with Annette. "Do you remember the morning after the raid? When I questioned why you and Margaret were here?"

Annette slowly nodded her head, wondering how this came to mind. "Yes, but it doesn't really matter. We were all a bit testy that day."

"But it _does_ matter." Peter objected, an apologetic tone entering his voice. "I was upset and acting like a brute—don't you dare say otherwise. I made a pretty awful claim that day, and I was wrong. Aslan _did_ send you and Margaret here for a reason. Whatever that reasoning may be, it has definitely helped Narnia. Things would've been entirely different without the two of you…." The High King suddenly paused. He looked across the room to where an observing Aslan was watching the festivities. "You don't suppose the both of you were sent here to drive me to insanity, do you?"

The sudden mood shift left Annette at a loss for words. She laughed along with Peter for his own sake, but also looked at him with grateful eyes. The song finished shortly after, and Annette quickly released her hands. "Thank you for your kind words, Peter, but I'm afraid I must bid you adieu." She began to walk away, but couldn't help shouting one last thing, "Enjoy dancing with your _'line'_ of women."

Annette swiftly exited the dance floor, but soon found herself suddenly yanked onto the dance floor again. She was unable to get a proper look at her mysterious partner until he had adequately positioned her. "Edmund!" Annette chirped as a bass started up a low tune.

"Hello there, Annette!" He replied just as cheerfully. Already they were dancing, both their feet gliding along with the music. "How about a dance?"

"Well, seeing as we're already dancing…"

Edmund looked across his partner's face with a proud glint in his brown eyes. "I saved you, you know."

Annette could only stare back at Edmund with quizzical eyes. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"Do you see that Telmarine over there?" Edmund quickly said, having no trouble explaining his 'heroic' moment. He nodded to his left, and Annette's eyes jumped to whomever Edmund was referring to. The only Telmarine on that side of the room was a particularly greasy looking fellow, with unnaturally think eyebrows to boot.

Edmund snickered once Annette faced him with rather tense features. "He'd been eyeing everyone on the dance floor, but I couldn't help but notice he looked towards you the most. As soon as you left my brother's arms, he took a step forward." Edmund spun a momentarily less-than-graceful Annette around before looking down at her with a victorious smirk. "Luckily I beat him to it!"

Annette took a moment to compose herself before answering Edmund. She knew if Telmarine had asked her to dance, she wouldn't have said no. It wasn't in her nature, even if she preferred _not _to dance with him.

"Thank you, Edmund, for your most gracious rescue." She joked before a second thought entered her head. "But what if he's chosen to now dance with Margaret?"

For a split second, Edmund's eyes widened with not only panic, but stupidity for not thinking this before. His head shot up to better pan across the dance floor. Although Annette was a bit concerned as well, she couldn't help but find Edmund's whole appearance rather comical. With his wide eyes, slightly paler complexion, and quick head turns; Annette simply couldn't contain her smile.

"It's all right," Edmund said, relief trickling into his voice. "Peter snagged her up."

All Annette could offer to the conversation was an even wider smile and a few quick nods of her head. Edmund made a face at the out-of-context smile, but shifted his eyes away in an attempt to hide it. Somehow his eyes managed to automatically find Margaret, her lovely face almost glowing under his silent gaze.

"You know, Edmund. If you continue to glance over there, she's bound to notice sooner or later." Edmund instantly snapped to attention. He opened his mouth to object, but Annette spoke up before a single noise could surpass his throat. "I'm only kidding!" She looked to the side to better see her friend. "She looks simply elegant tonight, doesn't she?"

"Well, yes…" He was nervous, Annette could tell. The silent fails of forming words easily proved that. Except now Annette felt a bit bad for allowing this to happen to the poor boy…at least she knew of a way to fix his prattling.

"Well go dance with her!" She shouted rather loudly as the cello finished off its final cord. Fortunately no one had noticed this outburst, or cared to notice at least. Nonetheless, Annette made sure to drop her voice when she next spoke. "I'm sure she wishes to dance with you as much as you do her."

A fire seemed to light within Edmund's eyes. He opened his mouth to reply, when a new voice entered the conversation. This voice sent a mysterious guilt rushing through Annette's veins. Without even looking, she knew who it belonged to.

"Annette…?" Susan hesitantly asked. Annette dropped hands with Edmund and looked back at the eldest Queen. "Can we talk?"

Her eyes grew at the gentle Queen's question. There was a thought in her mind as to what, or rather _who_, Susan wanted to talk about, but Annette pushed it away and quickly sought out Margaret's eyes. _What should I do? _She silently begged to her.

Ever so slightly Margaret nodded her head, signaling that she'd be alright if she went with Susan. Annette took a small breath before facing Susan once more. "Yes, of course. If you'll excuse us, Edmund."

After a quick nod towards the young King, Susan to lead Annette to a secluded part of the large room. Many undisturbed tables and chairs scattered throughout the area, abandoned by their occupants to the dance floor. Susan sat on a chair in the middle of the room, and Annette, unsure of what to do, nervously sat down across from her.

Then there was a rather long silence before Susan hurriedly stated, "I'm sorry for ever intruding upon you and Caspian." As soon as she those words filled the air, stress seemed to literally fall away from the Queen's face.

"But I was just dancing with Edmund…" Annette's words faltered towards the end of her sentence. Obviously this wasn't about Edmund _or _Peter, for that matter, and Annette knew it. She just didn't want to admit this was actually going to be about Caspian. "Has Margaret said something about-"

"Annette, please. I need to say something." No emotion played on Susan's face, making Annette hesitantly nod her approval for Susan to continue. "I suppose I should've noticed at Aslan's How. I mean, the two of you spent enough time together. Not to mention the side glances you shared whenever bad news arose. I guess I was just too…stubborn? Yes, too stubborn to believe the idea. I was stuck with the thought of it simply being a strong friendship that I allowed for feelings of my own to develop…for the first time I felt comfortable enough letting these feelings grow." Susan briefly peeked her eyes up with an unexpected smile on her face. "I'm sorry for ever meddling."

Annette stared on in silence at the end of Susan's speech. Twice she opened her mouth, failing to produce any words, before she was finally able to squeak out her thoughts. "Susan, _I'm _sorry. I had no idea you felt all this. Or, perhaps just like you, I was too stubborn to think anything more of it…" The two made eye contact, and Annette swore she saw Susan's face brighten a little. "And please believe me when I say you shouldn't be afraid to push for something. You have a beautiful personality, and anyone would be lucky just to meet you."

"Margaret was telling me the same thing just the other day." Susan smiled before embracing Annette, clearing any lingering tension in the air. "However, we're not here to sit around and talk about boys and feelings." She continued, pulling away. "Let's dance!"

Susan practically dragged Annette back to the bright lights of the Ball just as another song picked up. It took a while for Annette's eyes to adjust to the shift in light, but once she did, Susan suddenly spun her around.

"Just remember to be strong, Annette." Susan advised in a whisper, glancing over a disoriented Annette's shoulder. "And try not to mess up too much." She added with a wink.

"Susan, what are you…?"

"Annette?" A familiar voice echoed from behind the confused girl, followed by a tap on the shoulder. Although fully knowing her cheeks were bright red, Annette turned to face none other than Caspian himself. "Would it be too much if I asked you to dance?"

Before answering Annette glanced back at Susan, making sure she'd be alright with it. Apparently she was since she was urgently nodding her head. "Yes, Caspian. I would love to dance with you."

Although the song had already begun, Caspian had no trouble guiding Annette into the dance. However, Annette was nervous. _Very _nervous. So nervous, in fact, that she found her hands shaking uncontrollably. Her tense posture was easily detected by Caspian, now making the new emotion of embarrassment filter into Annette's cheeks.

To cover up her blush, Annette looked to her toes. _Calm yourself, Annette. It's just Caspian. The same Caspian whom you've had many adventures with alongside Margaret and the Pevensies. See? Nothing to be nervous about! Especially now that he's holding your hand…_

The hands. With one arm wrapped around Annette's waist and the other entwined in her hand, Annette couldn't help but look back up at her partner. That simple touch had stopped her shaking hands. She felt completely comfortable in his arms.

A reassuring smile. This was what Annette first noticed when daring herself to look at him. There was a hidden message behind his lips, one that Annette knew said _Don't be frightened! You're safe with me. I promise. _Or, at least, that's what she was hoping they wanted to say.

Eyes meet. Annette felt weak as she looked into his magnificent brown eyes. They shined down at her with pure bliss, and Annette hoped her own eyes displayed the same feeling. His gaze was very powerful. The longer Annette looked, the more overwhelmed she became.

She quickly averted her eyes so as not to become lost and step on his perfectly polished shoes. And that's when she saw _them_. Margaret, simply floating in her blue dress, dancing with Edmund, who bore a matching blue suit; they almost seemed to blend together as they danced.

"They're adorable! Especially with their matching colors." Very briefly she glanced back at Caspian, brushing off the odd face he now wore, before looking back at the rest of the crowd. "If only more people came with matching colors. It would make this ball even more breathtaking."

"Um, Annette?" Caspian coughed, drawing her attention away from the dancers. She waited for him to continue, but all he did was dart his eyes between the two of them.

A discomfited pause descended upon them. "Well what is it?"

Caspian lowered his head slightly, his hair casting a shadow upon his face. "That dress is lovely on you."

"Thank you?" Annette questioned the off-handed compliment. Although flattered, she felt as though she were missing something important. "I figured since maroon was my favorite color, I'd wear a dress with a matching sha- …Wait." She paused midsentence, her eyes darting between the dress and Caspian's suite. "…You're wearing maroon."

A smile cracked on Caspian's face. "It was done intentionally."

"Oh!" Immediately Annette's face flushed into a nice red, feeling foolish for not noticing this obvious display before! As a result, she didn't quite know what to say. "Well…You look quite dashing in maroon."

"But you, Annette, look beautiful."

Just like that, Caspian had stopped Annette short. She tried to reply, but there was one distracting key factor: The music had stopped. Judging by the stares of all the people, it had stopped a while ago. And here they were, still dancing. Without a second thought, the pair turned as red as their clothes and stepped away from one another.

"Sorry," Annette mumbled as a viola gracefully started a new song and couples scurried to join in. "I suppose I got a bit distracted."

She turned to face the new King, sadly expecting to curtsy and find a new partner. So one can imagine how her heart swelled when instead she saw Caspian's hand extended towards her once more. He barely asked her to dance before Annette nodded and boldly linked her hand into his.

Caspian lead her towards the center before pulling her in close. Amongst the crowd of dancers, Caspian lowered his head next to Annette and whispered, "It's not as though we need music to dance."

~.~.~.~.

"Margaret and I did basically everything together back in England, despite our slight age difference. I mean, we have similar interests and everything." Annette explained to Caspian as they entered the Gardens, hand in hand.

The two had danced several times without any interruptions, the latest one being a high-tempo jig that Annette's feet couldn't seem to pick up on. To save her the embarrassment, Caspian suggested they walk through the gardens.

"There were never any arguments?"

"Nothing _too_ drastic." Annette recalled as memories flashed through her mind. "Of course there was the occasional disagreement, but it was more of strongly explaining thoughts. And this was only on the rare occasion when we did disagree."

"I suppose that is how families act, then." Caspian muttered with a hint of sadness.

Annette gave his hand a comforting squeeze, not knowing exactly what to do. She may have grown up without her actually family, but Margaret's filled her burden nicely. Caspian, on the other hand, didn't even have that.

"Perhaps we should sit down." Annette suggested, her eyes scanning the breathtaking garden. "Like at the fountain!"

Caspian nudged Annette. "If I fall in this time, I am taking you with me."

Annette smiled back before sitting at the fountain's edge. A slight wind had started up, rustling the leaves around her. The soothing breeze brushed her face. She deeply inhaled, trying to intake all the sweet scents around her. "I could just stay in Narnia forever." Annette sighed, feeling completely carefree.

"If you go back to England, what would you do?" Caspian inquired, taking his place next to Annette.

"I'd probably aide a teacher over the summer courses." She concluded after thinking it over. "The whole thing would offer experience, especially since I haven't made up my mind about what I want to be. I figure seeing what teaching is like would be a good start...although I can't help but wonder if I'll have to tough it out all over again."

Annette half-smiled over at Caspian, who looked back with concern. "What would make you think that? Margaret and the Pevensies will be in England with you."

"That's just it, though." Annette began, nervously picking at her dress. "With the bond Margaret and Edmund have, they'll certainly spend most days together. As for the rest of the Pevensies, I can't say. I just feel as though we'll lose contact for some silly reason." She apprehensively laughed, but quickly straightened up without once looking at Caspian. "Eventually I'll get used to it, I guess. I've been left before."

"Annette, no one is going to leave you." Caspian reached across and took Annette's hand, a reassuring gesture. "Even if, for some reason, you never see the Pevensies again, I can guarantee you will cross their minds. You know Margaret will never abandon you, especially not after all you've been though together. And I promise there won't be a single moment when you slip my mind. You will never be alone." Unexpectedly Caspian squeezed Annette's hand, as if enforcing his words. "I promise."

"How can you be so sure, Caspian?" She asked, suddenly angry. "How can you be when I'll be another world away?"

Annette wanted to leave, to get away from the gentle king, but their interlocking hands made her stay; melting away her anger and childish fear of being left alone. She couldn't just leave him, especially when Caspian pulled her forward into a kiss. A tender kiss that kept Annette's eyes closed and removed all her doubts. Her lips never stopped smiling, not even after they had pulled away.

Annette plunged herself into Caspian again, almost knocking him backwards with her sudden embrace. With his arms now wrapped around her, she felt safe and wanted, almost as if she were at home. This was where she wanted to be. However, Annette also felt unsettled about it all. There was a tug at her heart, telling her something wasn't right no matter how badly she wanted it to be. It was frightening.

"Annette," Caspian's voice echoed from his chest. Annette didn't move away. She wasn't quite ready to leave his embrace. So she just remained quiet and waited for what Caspian had to say. "I don't mean to sound forward, or give you any more pressure, but…I think I might be in lo-"

An explosion of green interrupted Caspian with a thunder of color. Annette shot straight up, giddy about the display before her. "You never told me there would be fireworks!" She felt like a child again, smiling up at the twinkling night sky as different colors appeared. Her smile grew wider as more complex patters arose.

"I'm sorry, you were saying?" Annette asked Caspian, darting her eyes between the assortment of colors and Caspian himself.

"I was just saying how I think I might want to tell you about the surprise." He sighed, gesturing towards the fireworks.

Laughing, Annette admired the perfectly timed entertainment. "They're lovely!" She added before pecking Caspian on the cheek and snuggling onto his shoulder. "We should do this more often."


	28. On Second Thought

**Hey guys! So this is the second to last Narnia chapter. MisticLight and I really want to thank you all for the wonderful reviews and support. Erm, we have photos of the dresses, but I cannot get the links to work, so give me a little while...**

**REVIEW PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE :D**

**Mistro~**

**~.~.~.~**

There was nothing, _nothing, _that could ruin Margaret's evening. If there were to be a raid on the castle, she would battle through it with a smile on her face. If the sea began to flood, she would swim proudly with the waves. If the dance had to end, she would be happy that it had at least happened.

And so it did. The evening seemed to pass with such swiftness that it almost felt like it had never occurred. Before she knew it, she was back in her own room again, brushing her hair out. Her reflection in the mirror was like nothing she had ever seen before. She had looked beautiful before the dance, but now that it was over and her cheeks were red and her hair was wild, she had never felt more stunning.

Perhaps it was because of him. Perhaps it was _all _because of him.

Margaret hated thinking that way . "Men," she laughed aloud. "They cannot have all of the credit. If they swoon over us, surely it is because of some effort on _our _parts." She winked at herself playfully in the mirror and rushed over to flop on her bed.

Something wasn't right, however. The moon was at it's highest, and the room sparkled with mystery. Despite her evening filled with laughter, Margaret felt alone. There was someone she hadn't seen for a few hours.

That someone was the exact thing she was missing.

"Annette!" She shrieked, rolling off from her bed. She quickly rushed down the corridor towards her friend's large doorway. Her fists drummed on the wood until she began to pound in a happy rhythm. "Oh, Annette!" She sang. "Your best friend is here and has urgent things to tell you!"

Annette pulled back the door with squinted eyes. She looked as though she had been resting, but upon seeing Margaret, her composure was suddenly charged. "Margaret!" She cried, pulling her friend inside the room. "How could we not have meet up after the ball? I have so much-"

"To talk to you about!" Margaret finished. "I know you do, and so do I!" The friends fell back onto the bed, laughing. "Oh, but where do I start? Annette… Might it be rash to say that this was the best night of my life?"

It might have sounded immature, but there was no doubt in her mind. Margaret was certain she had never felt happier. "I feel the same," Annette smiled. "I love it here. I love Narnia more than anywhere."

Margaret tried to smile, but something in her stature faltered. She wanted to say the same, but should she? If she did, she would feel like she was betraying her family. Her real family. Her _blood _family. They must be worried sick about her. "So!" She decided to change the topic. Hopefully Annette hadn't noticed her second of inner turmoil. "What was the best part of your night?"

Annette shifted herself on the bed. She was buzzing with excitement. Her lips were as bright as her cheeks. Margaret knew from the flushing of her skin; she had been with Caspian. "Well, I'm not sure if I can pick the best part," she confessed. "I can tell you the worst, though."

Margaret crossed her legs and folded her hands patiently in her lap. It was like childhood story time all over again, only this time, the stories were real. "Tell me," she gushed.

"There was a Telmarine…"

"Oh, I saw him!" Margaret winced in disgust. "He was certainly keen on you, wasn't he? Him and his bushy eyebrows." Margaret playfully placed her fingers over her own brows to give the impression of a thicker appearance. Her jaw dropped into a frown and her eyes narrowed. "Hello, Annette," she said in a deep voice. "May I have this dance?"

Annette playfully pushed her friend over. "You're insane," she laughed. "He never asked me to dance. Even if he did, he probably didn't sound like that."

Margaret shrugged with a smirk. "I wouldn't be so sure."

"Anyway, what was the best part of _your _night?"

Margaret knew her answer instantly. She could still feel Edmund's lips upon hers, no matter how many times she tried to shake it off. Maybe she didn't want to. She bit down on her lip as she lost herself deep in the memory.

"Oh, you kissed him, didn't you?" Annette gasped with laughter.

Margaret sat up a bit straighter. "Oh, as if you didn't kiss Caspian?" Annette's face dropped instantly. There was no denying it "It's not like it was your first time, either." Annette seemed to be embarrassed, though there was no need to be.

"Of course we did," she mumbled, lost in thought. "But something else happened tonight too." Margaret's stomach instantly sunk to the floor. What on Earth was Annette about to say? "Susan talked to me about Caspian."

"Oh thank goodness!" Margaret breathed a sigh of relief. "I thought you were going to say something else; something _much_ more drastic. I didn't think I was ready to talk to you about that, so thank you."

Annette wasn't stupid. She knew what Margaret was talking about. Her only response was a firm frown. "Of course we didn't, Margaret." Margaret smiled despite herself. It wasn't her fault that Annette worded things badly. "Susan talked to me about Caspian. She told me that she would get out of the way."

"Then why do you look so sad?" Margaret teased. "This is happy news."

"I suppose," she sighed. "I feel guilty though. What if Caspian was meant to be with Susan? What if I got in the way of previous feelings?"

"Oh, come, come. They hardly new each other." Margaret tried to comfort her friend with a smile, but she seemed to be retreating back into her gloomy state. "Besides, we met him first, did we not?"

That was the truth, and Annette could not claim it as a lie. "Perhaps you're right-"

"I'm always right." Margaret slumped back against the headboard with a shrug. "It's a gift." Annette used this as an opportunity to snatch a pillow and whack it across her friend's head. "Don't you know how thick Narnian pillows are?" Margaret hissed. "Thick for extra comfort. Be careful what you choose as a weapon."

Annette rolled her eyes once again. Margaret was as silly as they came. "Do you think Aslan sent us here so we could fight alongside the Pevensies?"

The question turned the mood a bit darker. Speaking of why they were there would surely bring up when they were leaving. However, Margaret would give her an honest answer. Questions needed to be solved. Their time was running short. "I think he sent us here for more than one reason."

"What reasons are those?"

"Well, I think he sent you here for Caspian." Annette's face lit up in surprise. "I mean it," Margaret explained. "I truly do. He had no family. He had no one he could trust. Then, you came along. You've truly changed him and his life."

"It's not just me," she sighed. "It's you and Edmund, too. You could have met in England, but maybe that wouldn't have happened. It's obvious you're supposed to be together and Narnia has given you that chance." Margaret was frowning despite her friend's kind words. The mere mention of England always sent Margaret into an ethical frustration. "Besides, Edmund was always gloomy. That's what his siblings told me. You've obviously brought some color into his life."

Margaret couldn't resist a soft smile. "I guess I have that effect."

Annette sighed and made her way towards her friend. They both leaned back against the headboard as Margaret squeezed a pillow between her arms. "This is all going to end soon, though. Isn't it?"

Annette didn't want to answer. She felt sick just thinking about those three letters. _Yes_. But, she had to grow up. It was time. The words fell from her mouth as easily as sand.

"Yes," she whispered. "Our time is running out."

~.~.~.~.~.~

"Edmund?" Caspian's voice shot up a bit louder when he saw the dark haired boy's head. Edmund was leaning over a balcony above the courtyard and was surprised to see the new King. "What are you doing up so late?"

Edmund glanced at a clock down below. It was certainly late; past midnight. The moon was high and yet there was not a drop of sleep in his eyes. "I can't sleep," he confessed. He wondered if he should speak formally to the King, but he himself was one. A much older, and perhaps wiser one. "There's a lot on my mind."

"I confess that it is the same with me," Caspian leaned against the stone ledge in unison. "Should I take a wild stab in the dark here? You're thinking about Margaret?" Edmund laughed. The answer was obvious. "I understand. The same questions pick at my own mind, but with Annette."

"I just can't help feeling like things are going to change soon," Edmund muttered. Angst was evident in his voice. Even after a wonderful night, he couldn't find complete happiness. "Every time things start to become perfect, something happens. Sometimes it's not always for the better."

Caspian nodded. "I've spoken with Aslan." This grabbed Edmund's attention. The way he spoke was serious, and he knew something new was going to be learned. "He says there's not much time."

Edmund stood up instantly, his arms falling to his side. "We're leaving soon?"

"It wasn't his choice. It was your brother and sister's," Caspian's eyes closed. There was much more eating at him, but he couldn't seem to find the words. "They have their old lives to return to. They say that they might be done with Narnia. For now, anyway."

Edmund's face twisted into a grimace. Peter had tried to speak of those matters to him before, but he had always pushed him away. Obviously Peter hadn't changed his mind, especially since he had discussed it with Aslan. "Well, I'm not a part of that. I'm not ready to leave forever."

"That's fine," Caspian smiled. "The doors to Narnia will always be there when you need them." Though he smiled, something bitter was lingering behind his eyes. Though the Pevensies would be sorely missed, someone else worried him much more than all the rest. Edmund could read it on his face, but knew it was best to say little on the matter.

"She's going to come back," he encouraged. Caspian seemed surprised by these words. Though Edmund didn't know the truth of them, he felt his words were honest. "She's too important to Narnia now for her time to suddenly be over. Perhaps she will even stay."

"Yes," Caspian agreed. "But, Aslan tells me that Narnia's time has a way of playing with you. It is like a mocking jester. If she returns and I am gone…"

Edmund raised his hand to silence his friend. It wasn't the time for thoughts like that.

The boys remained silent as they stared up at the starry sky. The smoke from the fireworks were long gone, and nothing but the planets shone above. It was hard to believe it was the same sky they fought battles under. It was the same sky they had laughed, cried and daydreamed beneath. Lives were taken and lost below those moons, and somehow, that made it seem much less beautiful.

~.~.~.~.~

The next morning's breakfast was as large as the previous night's feast. Margaret couldn't comprehend which food to take first as she stared at the display before her. Her lips jutted into a pout as she scanned the table.

"Lady Margaret," a small voice came from below. She looked down to see Reepicheep, new tail and all. "Are you not eating?"

She laughed and shook her head. "It's not that. In fact, I very much want to eat, I just don't know where to start."

The mouse smiled before grabbing another piece of cheese. Margaret was not surprised to see that he already had six pieces on his tiny plate. "Well, you'd better decide soon. The Minotaurs haven't woken yet, and I fear their appetite is quite large." After a playful wink, he scurried on his way.

Though she was smiling, Margaret couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. It wasn't necessarily the food itself, or the amount, but something struck a chord within her and she could not seem to get a certain memory out of her mind.

She slowly sat down in her chair as the memory entered her mind.

~.~.~.~.~

"_Mother," Margaret mumbled as she tugged her mother's apron. "Where did you put the bread?" _

_A dark look passed over her mother's face. Her dark blonde hair was messily tied in a bun, and thick bags hung beneath her grey eyes. There was no color in her skin. There was barely any life. Margaret was used to this image, however. She had looked like that when the war started to get deeper. "Are we all out?" Margaret asked again._

"_There's none," she mumbled and returned to washing the dishes. "If you want breakfast, there's some leftover soup." _

_Margaret walked out of the kitchen. Since the bombing, things were in short supply. Margaret could hear her stomach growling all throughout the day, but paid no attention to it._

_Things would get better soon. _

_Surely, they would._

_Wouldn't they?_

~.~.~.~.~

That was only a few weeks before Margaret had found her way into Narnia. Just a few weeks? Was that really it? Or, had it been a year? It felt like a year… Margaret rubbed her eyes in frustration. How long had they been in Narnia anyway?

Annette had timed her entrance perfectly, because Margaret felt on the verge of tears. Her friend instantly noticed the discomfort and rushed to her side. "Margaret," she whispered. "Are you alright? You look as pale as ever. What happened to the color in your cheeks?"

Margaret glanced at her through the corner of her eye. No matter what Annette said, she couldn't stop feeling a bit empty inside. "How long have we been here?" She mumbled, locking eyes.

Annette sat back in surprise. She wasn't expecting that. "Why, a few weeks!" Annette's voice was certain, but something wasn't right. Her face twisted. "Or has it only been a few days?" Both of the girls' nerves were evident. "Somehow, it feels like a year…"

"It can't be that long," Margaret declared as she stood up from her chair. People were starting to watch the two Ladies with concern. "We can't really have been here that long!" Annette tried to calm her friend, but nothing seemed to work. "My mother is at home, probably slaving away and wondering where I am! How could we have just left like that? How could we, Annette?"

Annette tried her best to smile, but hurt instantly shone through her eyes. Margaret instantly realized she had made a mistake. "You might have something to go back for, Margaret. But, it seems that I must remind you; I do not."

"You have me," her friend encouraged. "You can't stay here forever."

"Why not?" Annette nearly shouted. She wasn't angry, but frustrated. Her red cheeks didn't match her gorgeous brown dress. "Can't you see that we were meant to come? Why else would we be here? This isn't a dream, Margaret. You can't wake up."

"At least I'm trying." Margaret's new pink gown tumbled around her as she stood up. Brushing past her friend, she had no intention of going back. Breakfast was suddenly of no interest to her.

All eyes were on the pair now. Up until Margaret finally left the room, there was no interest in conversation. Everyone was curious as to what had just happened.

Margaret didn't like to view it as fighting. It was ignoring the things that mattered most. And, unfortunately, she was an expert at it. She had always pushed away pain the second it came closer. She wasn't good at handling it, so she rid herself of it entirely.

As she came into the courtyard, the sunshine seemed ironic with her emotions. She tugged at her flowing sleeves and pulled at the gold strings on her chest. A Lady of Narnia? Hah! She was barely considered to have manners in her school. There was little sun left in her eyes. Even after her magical night, bitterness followed her.

"You wear the eyes of a lost soul," a deep voice rang out behind her. She didn't need to see his whiskers and wet nose to know it was Aslan. "Somehow I thought you had finally found your home."

Margaret slowly turned to face her hero. "I'm sorry," she whispered. There was no use in denying her displeasure. Aslan could see right through her. To him, she was as transparent as glass. "I'm just afraid of losing my home in England. I can't even place my finger on the exact date we came anymore. I used to know, but those things are long forgotten."

He nodded. "Yes, they seem like a very long time ago, don't they?" Margaret nodded. She hoped he would give her a bit more insight, but he was silent for quite some time. His beady eyes pierced into her own, but she was unafraid. He was a comfort to her. She knew she was protected around him, and not just physically, but emotionally too. "I need you to do something for me, Lady Margaret."

Somehow this felt like an honor. "Anything," she said quickly.

"There is to be a gathering at the large tree near the cliff's edge as soon as everyone can be there." Margaret knew which one he was speaking of. She had seen Annette reading beneath it once before. "I need to gather the townspeople and the people inside the castle walls. Can you help me with this?"

Margaret knew she was up to it. She needed something to take her mind off of England anyway. "I'm on it," she said.

Aslan could barely get a thank you out before she was dashing towards the palace.

~.~.~.~.~

"Alright, everyone!" Margaret screamed as she reached the top of the ballroom staircase. Annette and Caspian, who were standing at the bottom, both looked up to hear the news. Others who had been enjoying the lovely day on the balconies also turned their attention towards the loud blonde. "There is to be a meeting at the old tree on the cliff's edge." Everyone mumbled their disapprovals or confusions to one another before Margaret had even finished. "It is by order of Aslan!" She screamed over the noise.

No one complained after that.

Margaret had gathered some mice, badgers and soldiers to help her make the call throughout the city. People were already gathering when she came out into the courtyard, and Aslan smiled at her from across the way.

She wanted to laugh as the townspeople passed the friendly Lion. They were obviously not used to the sight of such a beast, but little did they know that he owned a heart of gold.

Margaret stopped walking as she watched the floods of people make their way past her. She was a steady stone in a moving stream; getting older as people came and went. She was a pebble, wondering where the water would wash her up next.

It didn't matter, though. Time was the only thing that mattered.

Margaret just wasn't sure what 'time' was anymore.


	29. Quiet Hope

**MistroStrings and MisticLight here! This, our dear readers, is our final chapter of our little Narnian adventure. The chapter following this is an epilogue/authors note thing (with a special surprise inside [; ).**

**Thank you to everyone for all of your reviews! 144 as of now! If we were somehow able to reach 150…we both would die with happiness and have a party in which you are all invited (although…you'll just have to be there in spirit…sorry guys).**

**Anyway, enjoy this final installment…UNTIL THE SEQUEL COMES OUT! :D**

**We love you all! And may the spirit of Aslan be with you always. Much love!**

**~MistroStrings and MisticLight**

**peter likes to ride unicorns. Lol –mistrostrings**

**O_O -MisticLight (PS, this totally describes us. HAHA.)**

~.~.~.~.

"My dear Lady, I believe we are delaying Aslan's summoning by being so late!" A somewhat frazzled Reepicheep squeaked from his perch atop of Annette's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Reep." Annette sympathetically said. There was a funny feeling swelling up inside of the dear girl, and she was walking rather slowly to the cliff's edge because of it. "Something just doesn't feel right." She looked to her feet for solace, but they offered her nothing in return. "I understand if you'd rather scamper ahead."

The little mouse patted Annette on her ear, his ears lowering as if mimicking her mood. "Do not fear what lies ahead too much. Charge at it head on!" Reepicheep proudly stated, making a smile appear on Annette's face. With his mission accomplished, the brave mouse plopped down onto the floor and scurried on ahead. This left Annette alone in the barren corridor.

Well, almost alone.

"So, I see we will be arriving late together?" An unmistakable Caspian said from behind, quickly placing himself beside her.

Annette's snapped her head up so as not to trouble him with her sudden worries. "It appears to be that way." She smiled. However, her smile quickly faded once she took in his attire. "What sort of pants are those?" Her nose scrunched with disapproval. "They're awful! Who dressed you this morning?"

"I did." Caspian gaped, glancing down at his pants. "And I thought they looked fitting for the occasion."

"Oh Caspian," Annette laughed, shaking her head. "You have much to learn."

"And you will be the one to teach me?" Caspian humorously asked, finally joining in with his laughter.

A thought suddenly crossed Annette's mind; one that made her laughter subside into a simple smile. She slid her hand into Caspian's, their fingers almost instinctively entwining. "I hope so, Caspian." Annette whispered. "With all my heart."

Caught up in the moment, she leaned her head onto Caspian's shoulder. They both didn't notice the group of slightly impatient citizens until one uncomfortably coughed nearby them. Caspian tensed up while Annette shot her into an upright position. She sheepishly smiled to the audience, squeezed Caspian's hand, and ran off to join Margaret and the Pevensies.

Her face was red hot as she took her stance next to Margaret, so obviously Margaret took this opportunity to pick on her friend. "I find today to be quite warm," she whispered.

"What are you talking about?" Annette replied, still unable to hide her rosy cheeks.

"I thought perhaps you were holding his hand because you were cold," Margaret smirked. "Naturally, I would view it as affection, but you're not often one for public scenes. It took me by surprise, to say the least." Annette could not find the proper words to respond with. In the back of her mind, she was unafraid to show affection towards Caspian anywhere. She was unsure of the time they had left and wanted to make every moment worthwhile. "Do you know what we're doing here?" Margaret's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Judging by the faces in the crowd, I don't think I'm the only one confused."

Annette could only stare out into the flood of people. The gathering. The tree. Aslan. The fact that they were standing like an attendance line. The point was clear, wasn't it? Though she hated admitting it, she knew this day had been creeping closer. Finally, it had come. And naturally, Margaret was unable to realize the situation. "Margaret…" Annette's laugh was tinged with sadness. "You really don't know, do you?"

"No…" She muttered, blinking away the bright sun. "Is this another crowning or something? More parties?" Annette could only smile. If she told her friend the truth, it would have been too painful for both of them. Though it took Margaret a while to accept Narnia, it had become her new home. Margaret always carried a big imagination, but Narnia was a paradise. She would not be quite ready to leave.

Both girls were taken by surprise as Caspian took center stage. Everyone grew quiet as his soft voice rose above them. "Narnia belongs to the Narnians, just as it does to man." Even though he had been ruling for a short while, his voice was strong and his nobility shone brightly. "Any Telmarines who want to stay and live in peace are welcome to. But, for any of you who wish, Aslan will return you to the home of our forefathers."

Margaret took a physical step forward, her eyes brimming over with fear. She had never fully expressed her displeasure at the idea of going home. She knew it was the right thing to do, but that didn't make it any less painful. Tightness wrung itself around her heart. Before she could get her thoughts straight, a small hand reached for her own. Lucy looked just as bewildered as she held onto Margaret for comfort. The two of them stood quietly in bewilderment, though they wished to express their sorrow aloud.

Annette could only direct her eyes at the ground. Looking at Caspian was too difficult, and the last thing she wanted was for him to see her wavering tears.

"It's been generations since we left Telmar!" A man from the audience proclaimed with uncertainty.

Aslan's head snapped towards him. "We are not referring to Telmar. Your ancestors were seafaring brigands; pirates run aground on an island. There they found a cave, a rare chasm that brought them here from their world." The expressions worn by the Telmarines were ones of shock. They did not know the truth about their ancestors, and were being informed too many years later. "The same world as our Kings and Queens. It is to that island I can return you. It is a good place for any who wish to make a new start. "

No one spoke for a few seconds. The Lion had come into the Telmarines life suddenly and said that their entire history was wrong. Believing him would not be easy and it was clear on most of their faces that they were not planning to.

Margaret desperately turned to lock eyes with Annette, but was distressed to see that her friend's focus was solely on the pebbles beneath her shoes.

"I will go." A man called out from the crowd, ending the silence. Upon recognizing the voice, Annette's head shot up to search the crowd of murmuring Telmarines. Her eyes never rested until they fell onto General Glozelle. "I will accept the offer."

Although saddened by the General's decision, Annette truly couldn't see it any other way. He of all people deserved a fresh start. One where he didn't need to suffer under the oppression of a vicious King. Where he could make decisions that he sought fit.

"What is it?" Margaret asked.

"It's the General I told you about." Annette explained, nodding at the man stepping out from the crowd. "He's leaving." Margaret gazed out at the man, instantly recognizing him. However, she still couldn't understand why Annette sounded so mystified by all this. "He's not that bad, you know. And I certainly wish that Aslan gives him something to help him succeed in our world."

General Glozelle must have heard Annette's final statement because he swiftly turned his head to face the two girls. His eyes settled upon Annette, offering her a smile and a small bow. Annette eagerly returned both to the General. She respected him for all he did during the revolution.

Their moment was interrupted by another voice, this time a female. "So will we." She softly uttered before making her appearance. It was Miraz's wife, the aunt of Caspian himself, along with her newborn son and father.

"Because you have spoken first…" Aslan nobly said to the approaching volunteers. "Your future in that world shall be good." The lion breathed his sweet breath onto them, gracing them with the good future they rightfully deserved.

"Wait," Margaret whispered loudly to Annette, slightly ruining the beautiful moment. "Aslan is sending them to our world, right?"

"Yes."

"Is he sure that's a good idea?" She chuckled nervously. "I mean, look at their clothing. I'm not sure if they're going to fit in properly. The technology will overwhelm them, and the war…"

"Margaret," Annette couldn't hide an oncoming smile. "I'm certain that Aslan has everything figured out."

Margaret's shoulders slumped as she allowed herself to relax. Annette had a point. Aslan never seemed to do anything without making sure there was room for a good outcome.

Still pondering over the idea, Margaret only noticed the tree beginning to creak and twist as soon as the crowd's gasps filled her ears. The beautiful bark began to crack and bend, the leaves staying still in the midst of the crowd's proclamations. A light breeze flew over the people and creatures. Soon, a large hole was created, ready for it's bait.

The volunteering Telmarines stared into the hole with worry, but Aslan sent them a nod of reassurance. Caspian locked eyes with them one last time before they stepped through the invisible portal. And like the magic that is so often found in Narnia, they vanished without a trace. Their lives were their own now, and their story would always remain a mystery. However, thanks to Aslan, their mysteries would have grand endings.

The crowd quickly responded in an uproar. Shouts rung out left and right.

"Where did they go?"

"They killed them!"

"How do we know he is not leading us to our deaths?"

The shouts were vicious. How could they not trust this gentle beast after all he had done for them? He invented their world. These people were nothing but ignorant in Margaret's eyes, and she had been there for a much shorter time.

"Sire…" A small, but strong voice called out. All eyes turned to the noble mouse. "If my example can be of any service, I will take eleven mice through without delay." Margaret's stomach twisted. She would be very sad to see her friend go, even if it was for a good cause.

Aslan said nothing. Instead, he turned his focus towards the two oldest Pevensies, who were already discussing the matter together through their stares. Margaret knew as she watched them that what came next was not going to be easy. For_ any_ of them.

Finally, the words fell softly from Peter's lips. "We'll go."

Before Peter even finished his sentence, Annette felt her uneasy feeling from before. Her hand shot out to Margaret so as to keep her from disappearing, but her eyes sought out only Caspian. She wasn't about to let him part from her either.

"We will?" Edmund asked for confirmation. His face twisted at the thought of leaving Narnia behind again.

"Come on." Peter said in an attempt to round up everyone. "Our time's up."

Margaret held fast to Annette's hand, removing her vision from the Pevensies to her friend. When she saw that Annette wasn't even looking at her, she forced her hand away. Margaret had felt like an added load to Annette's worries as she gazed at Caspian; a feeling Margaret hated.. She hated it with every ounce of her being.

"After all…" Peter continued, making his way over to Caspian. "We're not really needed here anymore." Very gently, Peter removed his precious sword and handed it over to Caspian. There was admiration in Caspian's eyes as he grabbed hold of it.

"I will look after it until you return." He said, determined that they would all be reunited shortly.

"I'm afraid that's just it." Susan said from the side. Everyone's gaze fell to her. Annette even forced herself to look upon the elegant Queen. "…We're not coming back."

Her words hit Margaret and Annette much harder than they thought. They knew this day would come eventually, but they certainly weren't prepared for it to be _today_. For Margaret, this could be the day she loses her best friend; her family. As for Annette, she would cause pain to one of the two people she treasured most in this world: Margaret and Caspian.

Their frightened stares suddenly jumping to her didn't help calm her down either.

"We're not?" Lucy cried, just as upset to be leaving Narnia.

Peter calmly walked over to his youngest sister, a sense of knowing playing upon his face. "You two are." With a side look to Aslan, Peter finally allowed a small smile to cross his face. "At least, I think he means you two."

"But why?" Lucy's brows scrunched together. "Did Peter and Susan do something wrong?"

"Quite the opposite, dear one," Aslan answered with an evident smile behind his fur. "But, all things have their time." Though his words were meant to be comforting, Lucy's face held nothing but sorrow.

Edmund's expression was quite similar, until a look of realization hit him. "Wait," he interjected. "What about Lady Annette and Lady Margaret?" He was voicing the question they had all been thinking.

"Narnia's doors are open to those who need it," Aslan said. "I think Lady Margaret and Lady Annette have not seen all that they have yet to see of their new home, and should know that these doors are always open when they need her."

Margaret could finally breathe a sigh of relief. Though, with the time change, who knew when they would make it back to Narnia? A few months in England, maybe. But, it could end up being years in Narnia. Annette would no doubt worry about that.

"Your brother and sister have learned what they can from this world," Aslan continued. "Now it's time for them to live in their own."

"It's alright, Lu," Peter smiled as he crossed to his sister. A smile passed his face, and just looking at it put Margaret at ease. He gently took her small hands in his. "It's not how I thought it would be… but it's alright." Lucy finally allowed herself to come to terms with this, and in the end, she was more pleased than before. "One day, you'll see too. Come on."

All of them began to make their way towards the group of Narnian heroes standing nearby the trees. It was time to say goodbye, as hard as it would be. Standing proudly near Aslan, the Professor, Reepicheep, Trufflehunter, the Bulgy Bear, Glenstorm, and Trumpkin awaited their farewells.

Annette hustled over towards Glenstorm, not even bothering to make eye contact with Margaret or Caspian. Things were just running too fast for her at the current moment, and she needed time to think.

When she approached the mighty centaur, his knowing face picked up on her distressed one "What troubles you, my friend?"

"I can't…" Annette began, unable to finish her sentence. Instinctively, she grabbed a hold of her hair and began nervously twist it about. She had to take a few shaky breaths before continuing. "I can't choose." Her simple sentence brought tears to her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. There was no way Annette was letting Glenstorm see her even weaker than she already was.

"Lady Annette," Glenstorm said, placing a hand upon her shoulder and stooping his head to her level. "Only you yourself can decide what next faces you. The path will be rough either way, but your friends will understand."

The centaur's kind words of wisdom took a while to set in, but once they did, Annette offered him a smile. A very dry smile, but a grateful one nonetheless. As she gazed up into her friend's eyes, she couldn't resist the urge to hug him. Glenstorm held a significant spot in her heart, and she would be eternally grateful to him. If she left, Annette would certainly miss her dear friend.

Margaret, on the other hand, had to stoop a bit lower to say her farewells. "I guess this is goodbye," she muttered quickly and quietly to her mouse friend.

Reepicheep wore a smile tinged with sadness. "For now, Lady Margaret. I expect to see your smiling face back in Narnia very soon. We shall certainly miss it." He held out his hand for a shake. Margaret began to reach out her finger, but instead picked the small critter up and held him tightly to her chest. "Lady Margaret…" He laughed nervously. "I'm not sure if this is proper-"

"Don't tell me what is and isn't proper," she said as she gently set him down. "I wasn't about to leave without hugging my favorite mouse." Playfully, she flicked his feather. "That's for all of the times you've poked me with that silly sword of yours." Reepicheep smiled throughout it all, and gave her a low bow before she stood back up.

"I will miss you very much, Lady Margaret," he said sadly. "You are not just my leader, but my dear and truest friend." Margaret had to turn away before her tears fell onto the mouse and squashed him. The last thing she wanted to do was drown him with her tears… literally.

When Annette spun around to finally face the upcoming decision she so wanted to avoid, the sight she saw startled her. Caspian and Susan were embracing one another, sadness burrowed in the creases of their frowns. Though it was intimate, it was one of friendship. Annette knew who their hearts belonged to, and she felt all the better for it. If Annette did choose to leave, Susan would be missing Caspian just as much. There was a special bond between the King and Queen. Although it was in friendship, this bond wasn't about to be broken by a change in worlds.

With two huge breaths, Annette took her first step towards Caspian. Now was the time to decide her fate.

"Is this our farewell?" Caspian asked, sadness failing to be hidden from his features. Annette tried to avoid this by looking to Margaret, but she was only met with the same face. Everything was just piling up.

So instead, Annette looked to Aslan. He nodded his head forward, not to rush Annette, but to offer her his support. No matter what she chose, the kind Lion will be proud of her.

"Someone very dear to my heart once told me I had strength within me." Annette said, smiling at Aslan before turning back to face Caspian. "They also said I was pushing it down, keeping it hidden." Taking another deep breath, Annette continued onto a new train of thought. "I love Narnia. It's taught many things about the world, but mostly it's taught me about myself. I'm sure everyone here can say this, which is why the thought of staying here forever seems like the greatest wish anyone could ever ask for. I adore every second I'm here."

From behind, Margaret lowered her head. It was clear Annette was staying, and this frightened her. Something soft brushed against the back of her hand. Looking down, she was surprised to see Edmund's fingers gently placing themselves over hers. She turned her eyes towards his own, the message in them clear.

_Don't be sad, Margaret. A girl like you should never be sad. _

"However," Annette said, sending an unwanted pain through Caspian. Margaret's ears perked up at the single word. "I also don't think I'm ready for Narnia. There are still a few things in my world that I'd like to learn about. More importantly, another half of my soul is going back home." Here, Annette glance back at Margaret before turning to a less happy Caspian. "And I don't plan on leaving her yet."

Caspian looked to the floor for a few moments, composing himself before facing Annette with a sense of understanding surrounding him. Margaret wanted to smile, but the sight was far too powerful to make any movement, period. "I hope this isn't the end for us."

"It can't be." Annette hurriedly said, rushing towards forward to place her hands upon his shoulders. She paused, thinking over her word choice. "It won't be."

He smirked, absorbing every ounce of her face. Ignoring all the onlookers in the crowd, but realizing Annette's distaste for displaying her affections for all to see, Caspian leaned forward and quickly planted a peck upon her lips.

Annette wasn't ready to leave Caspian's embrace though, so she stayed. Her arms found their way around him as she mumbled into his collar. "Please don't forget me." She whispered before backing up a little and smiling his way. "I'll be leaving my dagger here as a reminder."

"I wouldn't even need it." Caspian responded, laughing at her final comment.

Margaret and the remaining Pevensies watched curiously from the sidelines. Lucy's lip curled in confusion as she shook her head back and forth. "I'm sure when I'm older I'll understand."

Edmund did not fail to hide his playful smirk. "I'm older and I don't think I _want _to understand." Knowing full well that he would have to understand to be with her, Margaret nudged him firmly. He smiled down at her, giving her hand a small squeeze of reassurance. "Don't worry," he whispered. "You can teach me."

Margaret's cheeks had never been so red in her entire life.

However, the time had finally come and the group was silently making their way towards the tree. There was no turning back. When they went through the portal, they would be back in the world of British accents, tea and biscuits. Margaret smiled. She could already smell the butterscotch scent of her living room as the distance between her and the tree shortened. She was actually looking forward to it now that the time had come. Her time in Narnia was not over yet. In fact, as she took one last look out into the tumbling, beautiful cliffs on Narnia, she knew it would not be long. Just before they were about to enter, her hand was lifted up towards a pair of soft lips. Margaret watched as Edmund gently placed a lasting kiss upon her skin, smiling all the while. Ignoring her fluttering heart, Margaret realized that Annette and Edmund would both be returning with her. She suddenly felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

From the back of this line of theirs, Annette watched Edmund and Margaret's interaction. It was a sweet gesture before departing into to England for however long it may be. A few weeks. A year…forever.

Although Annette stood by her decision to go back with Margaret, the thought of possibly never seeing Caspian again was more than she could bare. She quickly spun back around, nearly melting when she saw Caspian's smiling face. He was supporting her, even if her decision wasn't what he had wanted. This was enough to start a spark up inside of Annette.

As fast as she possibly could, Annette ran the short distance back to Caspian. When she reached him, she held no fear in pulling Caspian closer and placing one final passionate kiss upon his lips. It didn't matter who was looking, or what anyone may be thinking. This timeless kiss was for Annette and Caspian alone.

With a rapidly beating heart, Annette pulled away. Caspian gently placed his hand on the back of her head to push her forward until their foreheads met. They were both breathing quickly, but somehow Annette was able to squeeze in one final word, "Goodbye."

Caspian chuckled, shaking his head. "Not goodbye." He corrected to Annette's bewildered eyes. "Until we meet again."

Annette couldn't contain herself from giving him one final sweet kiss before finally pulling away from him and joining the others. Her eyes never left Caspian's until the last possible second.

And then it was silent. For a brief moment, time froze and worlds became one. Light and dark intertwined and roar of Lion matched roar of train. Peace washed over the group until they were once again in the underground tube. Uniforms back on their bodies, hair in tight braids and caps on the boys, things were certainly back to normal.

They all spun around, just to make sure that there wasn't a tree or mythical creatures waiting behind them. Sadly, there was nothing but the busy traffic of the tube as people continued to live their lives.

None of them said a word. Their exchanged glances held enough memories than words ever would. Margaret briefly wondered if it had all been a dream, but as she felt the soft touch of another hand in hers, she knew that was not the case. Annette stood by her side, a small smile creeping onto her face. With her empty hand, Margaret reached out for her best friend. Forever and always, they would hold each other's hand when they needed it the most.

"Aren't you coming, Phyllis?" A mocking voice asked from the train. A tall, lanky boy with glasses stared intently at Susan. His face was gentle even though it was clear he was mocking her.

The situation was obviously not worth explaining, and everyone shrugged it off as they went to fetch their bags. Margaret and Annette were a bit surprised when they found their luggage piled neatly by the Pevensies, but it was clear this was all Aslan's doing and the pair simply smiled. As Margaret reached for her bag, she noticed an open book lying next to it. Annette stepped a bit closer to take a look at the page.

"That's it," she sighed breathlessly. "It will always be there."

"Yes," Margaret smiled as she ran her fingers over the drawing of the tree. "However, I don't think we'll be getting in that way again."

Annette smiled and gently folded the cover back. "Then we'll just have to find another way. With your wits and my sensibility, it shouldn't be too hard, should it?"

The train let out a warning whistle and the two giggling friends quickly rushed onto the train before they missed any more adventures.

"You don't think there's any way we can get back?" Edmund asked as they all hurried inside. Everyone glanced at the frazzled boy curiously as he rummaged through his sack. "I've left my new torch in Narnia," he mumbled with a pout.

Everyone couldn't repress their laughter, and Margaret quickly leaned up to peck him on the cheek. Edmund was clearly frustrated, but the situation was too humorous for anyone to take seriously.

As the train began to click into motion, Margaret and Annette locked eyes from across the space. Margaret's eyes twinkled knowingly. It wouldn't be long. Annette nodded her head ever so slightly. Their adventure had been big, but it was nothing compared to what was to come.

But as long as they had each other, anything was possible.


	30. EpilogueAN

**HEY EVERYONE. It's your favorite… authors? Okay, so anway. If you couldn't tell from our broken relationship with Annette and Caspian…**

**WE'RE GONNA HAVE A SEQUEL! **

**-confetti is thrown-**

**-everyone dances-**

**-Aslan roars merrily-**

**But, first we're going to edit the whole story. It won't take long, just keep your eyes peeled. (: **

**REVIEW AND SAY "POPSICLES" IF YOU WOULD LIKE A MESSAGE WHEN THE SEQUEL IS OUT. I know that's random, but just go with it. **

**Here's a sneak peek at the upcoming adventure… (See if you can guess where this is taking place! [: ) **

When Lucy saw the sight of the now broken family, there was nothing to hold back her tears. She wept openly onto Annette's shoulder, unaware of Eustace's taunting gaze.

"It seems quite simpleminded for you to be weeping over something you've seen a million times already," The boy scoffed at his cousin. "It's not as if you haven't lived through a war back home."

Lucy looked up briefly to reprimand the boy, but was unable to pull her thoughts together. Instead, she turned back to her friend's comforting shoulder. Annette looked from the weeping Lucy back towards the boy, realization crossing her emerald eyes. "Bigoted _and_ rude? Oh, you must be Eustace!"

**MEANWHILE….**

"Get off of me!" Margaret shrieked as she was pushed through the damp prison hall. "I am a Lady of Narnia and I demand your cooperation and respect… you big nosed buffoon!" Margaret struggled to find more threatening insult in her state of confusion. She wasn't quite sure if they know what she was talking about. Did anyone in Narnia remember her?

"Margaret? Is that you?" A rather familiar voice called out from a nearby cell.

Well, apparently someone did.

The sound of the boy's voice instantly made her forget her previous concerns and direct her attention towards the shadows. "Edmund?" She squeaked as the guards tightened their grip on her arms. "Edmund! Where are you?"

There was little time for a response, because Margaret was hurriedly thrown into a random cell. Thankfully, the sight awaiting her behind the dark door was one she considered a bit brighter.

… **Well. That's it. Yup. That's all you get. **

**Thank you all for reading our story. –bows- You have been such loyal fans and we couldn't have done it without you. x3**


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